Present Tense
by Bohemian Anne
Summary: The alternative sequel to A California Rose. What if Jack had lived? What would their lives have been like?
1. Cataclysm 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One

_Monday, May 5, 2003  
12:30 AM_

"I hope you enjoy your time together!" Cal's voice echoed through the streets as Jack and Rose ducked into the shelter provided by two buildings leaning against each other.

They stood there in the dim light provided by a single street lamp, leaning against the walls, waiting. There was no sign of Cal. Finally, Jack turned to Rose, and whispered, "Is he still out there?"

Rose crept toward the sidewalk, looking out. Cal was nowhere to be seen. Turning back to Jack, she told him, "I think he left."

"Good." He leaned against the wall, his hand pressed to his back, gritting his teeth against the growing pain. Rose looked at him in concern.

"Jack, are you all right?"

He pulled his hand away from the gunshot wound in his back. Rose gasped in horror, coming closer.

"Jack! My God. You've been shot."

"I know." He stepped away from the wall, trying to stand, but his legs buckled under him. He was losing too much blood, and he had already exerted too much energy getting Rose out of the way of the bullets. He'd been hit before they were halfway across the street.

Rose caught him before he could fall. Lowering him to the ground, she pressed a handful of her gauze skirt against his back, trying to stop the bleeding.

The walls groaned ominously overhead. The slightest tremor would send them crashing down.

"Rose, you've got to get out of here. Those walls could collapse any second."

"Can you walk?"

He shook his head. If she tried to wait for him, she could be trapped in a cave-in.

"Don't worry about me. Get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you, Jack. Not now."

"You have to."

"No!" Rose was determined. They hadn't come this far to give up now. "Lean on me, Jack. When we're out of here, I'll go for help."

There was no dissuading her. Jack allowed her to help him up. Leaning heavily on her, he managed to stumble in the direction of the open sidewalk.

The ground quivered in an aftershock. Rose tried to move faster, but Jack was slowing her down. He could barely walk, let alone run out of the way of the falling beams.

The heavy beams crumbled over their heads, crashing down around them. The light pole fell, pinning them to the ground. Rose's terrified scream could be heard above the crash of the two buildings collapsing.

They found themselves lying on the ground, just feet from the safety of the sidewalk. The beams had collapsed in a frame-like pattern above Rose's head; she could see the sky above them. Her right ankle was pinned beneath the fallen light pole.

Jack groaned, trying to move. His legs were pinned beneath the streetlight, and he was fairly certain, from the amount of pain when he tried to pull himself free, that his left leg was broken. But that wasn't immediately important.

Rose called his name, unsure of whether he was conscious or not. Jack reached for her hand.

"I'm right here, Rose."

Still gripping his hand, she tried to sit up. Her ankle was trapped, but she could almost pull it free. The pile of debris shifted, threatening to come crashing down on them.

"Just hold on, Rose. It'll be morning soon. They'll have rescue workers out then."

Rose settled back, worried. A moment later, she sat up again, her hand covered with something wet and sticky. Blood.

"Jack?" Her voice was filled with worry. "I don't think we can wait that long. You'll bleed to death if we don't get out of here."

_She's probably right,_ he thought. He could feel the blood trickling across his back and pooling under him. Nevertheless, the possibility of the debris caving in on them was very real. A blow from one of the heavy beams could kill one or both of them.

Rose struggled, trying to pull her ankle free of the light pole. Ignoring the pain that shot through her foot, she pulled it free and struggled to her knees.

Jack tried to pull himself free of the fallen pole, but he was too weak. Rose grabbed his arms and pulled, then stopped when he groaned in pain.

"What is it?" she asked him, letting go.

"My legs...trapped under that pole. I think one is broken." He broke out in a cold sweat, trying to free himself.

With strength she didn't know she had, Rose crawled into the dark, gravel-strewn space and lifted the light pole a fraction of an inch.

"Jack, you've got to help me," she gasped, straining to hold it up. "I can't hold on much longer."

With his last reserve of strength, Jack managed to pull his legs free of the trap. Forcing himself to sit up, he crawled into the space that was open to the sky, then stopped, exhausted.

Rose stood, balancing precariously on her injured ankle. Her head was just above the highest beams.

Trying to avoid putting weight on her ankle, she crouched down and helped Jack to his feet. He leaned against the debris pile for a moment before his injured leg, taxed beyond its limits, snapped. With a cry of pain, he collapsed.

Rose was beside him at once. "Jack, what happened?" she asked, trying to get him to stand up again.

"My leg...is definitely broken," he told her, trying to make light of the situation.

Her hands moving in the darkness, Rose found his injured leg. The bone protruded through the skin, blood soaking through his jeans.

"Definitely," Rose agreed, trying to adopt his light tone, but there was worry in her voice. He was already badly injured; this new injury might be the last straw.

Wrapping her arms around him, she struggled to her feet. Jack leaned against her, balancing on his right foot.

"Jack, you're going to have to help me here," she told him. "Hold onto my shoulders and try to climb if you can. I have to get us out of here."

Clenching his teeth, trying to ignore the pain, Jack wrapped his arms around Rose's shoulders. Gripping a beam, she pulled them up on the pile of rubble, trying not to injure Jack further. He tried to help her, supporting them with his right leg and grasping at a beam to steady them.

Halfway over, there was a loud cracking noise as the pile of debris collapsed. As they slid down to the sidewalk, a chunk of concrete slipped from the pile, grazing Rose's arm and hitting Jack squarely in the back of the head. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Oh, God!" Rose dragged Jack a few feet, away from the unstable pile of debris. Her heart in her throat, she checked his pulse.

At first, she couldn't find it above the panicked beating of her own heart. Then, finally, she felt it. Slow, shallow, but definitely there. He was still alive. She checked his breathing, almost unable to discern it at first. He was alive, but he wouldn't be for long unless she found help immediately.


	2. Cataclysm 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Two

Rose got to her feet, leaving Jack lying on the sidewalk. She had to find help.

No one was around. She looked up both sides of the street, but everyone had already left the area. A few cars remained undamaged, their owners having fled the destruction.

Looking around to make sure no was watching, Rose limped toward the nearest car. Its front passenger side window was shattered, but it was otherwise intact. Opening the door, she looked inside, hoping the owner had left the keys.

She was in luck. A pile of objects spilled from a purse lay on the floor of the front passenger side. Rummaging through it, Rose found the keys, then studied them, trying to figure out how to turn the car on.

The car was a Saturn, a late 1990's model. Cal had owned a Saturn before he had traded up to a BMW, but he had never let her drive it. She did remember, though, that he had always waved something under the dashboard until a beeping noise was heard, then started the car. When simply putting the key in the ignition and trying to turn it didn't work, Rose found the one thing on the key chain that felt like it might belong to the car and searched under the dashboard, trying to find whatever it was that would unlock the security system. Luck was with her when her fingers grazed a small piece of Velcro, then tentatively waved the rectangle of black plastic under it. The car beeped, and a moment later, she had the engine running.

Rose put the car in gear, backing it slowly in Jack's direction. One of the headlights was broken, making it hard to see. She winced as she ran over a good-sized piece of broken pavement.

When she reached Jack, she threw open the front passenger side door and hurried to Jack's side. He hadn't stirred. Checking his pulse again, she bit her lip, worried. It had grown weaker while she was seeking help.

Rose tried to lift him, ignoring the blood that soaked his clothes and quickly stained her dress. Gripping him under the arms, she dragged him in the direction of the car. Despite his lanky build, he was heavy, his unconscious body a dead weight. Trying to ignore her aching ankle, Rose pulled him to the car and dragged him inside.

Slamming the door, Rose hurried around to the driver's side. Jack slumped against the door, his head hanging forward. Rose checked his pulse again, her heart racing with alarm when she felt how cold and clammy his skin was. He was going into shock.

Shifting the car into drive, Rose moved through the broken streets as quickly as she could, heading in the direction that she had seen people moving in. Someone there might be able to help him.

As she steered around some live wires, Jack stirred, opening his eyes.

"Rose...what happened?" he asked, trying to sit up.

"Stay still!" she told him, afraid that movement would make the bullet wound worse. As they passed a still-glowing streetlight, Rose saw that back of the seat was stained with blood. How much blood could one person lose and still live?

"A piece of concrete fell on us while we were escaping from those fallen buildings," she told him.

"The buildings...right." He looked around, confused. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere there's people."

In the distance, the lights of two emergency vehicles could be seen. Rose sped up, then slammed on the brakes as a dog darted across the road.

Her arm flew out automatically, preventing Jack from hitting the dashboard. He slipped down, half lying between the seat and the floor. She cursed herself for not buckling him in.

"Your arm is bleeding," he told her, trying to sit back up.

She felt it, only then realizing that she had been injured by the falling concrete, too.

"It'll heal." She steered around a tree that had fallen across the road. The emergency vehicles were only two blocks away now. Even at that distance, Rose could see that rescue efforts were already underway for one of the residential neighborhoods.

"Turn on the heater; it's cold."

Rose looked at him, realizing that he was shivering violently, despite the pleasantness of the night weather. "You're in shock," she told him, batting his hand away as he tried to reach for the temperature controls. Heat could make the bleeding worse.

"No wonder...I'm dying, aren't I?"

"No!" she told him, trying to believe it herself. Her voice gave away her doubts. They both knew how seriously he was injured.

He was silent for a moment. Rose looked at him, fearing he had lost consciousness again—or worse. Then he spoke to her.

"I better tell you now...I love you."

"Jack, no. You're going to be okay. Don't give up," she pleaded, pulling the car to a stop. A police officer came toward her, gesturing for her to move the car out of the street. She shook her head, indicating Jack.

An EMT came forward, opening the front passenger side door. Jack nearly fell from the car before the man caught him, shouting orders when he saw the seriousness of Jack's condition.

Rose stumbled from the car, forgetting that she was supposed to move it out of the way. Someone had brought a stretcher for Jack, and people already surrounded him, working frantically to save his life.

Rose watched, helplessly, as someone brought out life support equipment. She overheard the officer radioing for an airlift.

"What's going on?" Rose asked, staggering over.

"We can't take of his injuries here; he's going to be airlifted to Memorial Hospital in Southland. Sit down," the cop ordered her.

Rose hadn't realized how badly she was shaking. The adrenaline that had kept her going was wearing off. Her ankle gave out halfway down, sending her crashing to the pavement.

Examining her ankle, Rose was surprised to discover that it had swollen to nearly twice its normal size. She had been able to ignore it while she sought help for Jack, but now the pain nearly overwhelmed her.

She looked up in surprise as someone brought over an Ace bandage and began to wrap her injured foot. Someone else had moved the car out of the way and shut it off. Rose looked over at Jack.

"Is he going to be okay?" Her eyes were pleading.

"We're doing all we can."

It wasn't encouraging. As soon as her ankle was wrapped, Rose got to her feet. She could see the helicopter approaching overhead as she limped toward Jack.

Someone tried to keep her back. Rose struggled, trying to reach him. As the helicopter landed, they finally let her go.

Rose fell to her knees beside Jack. "Jack! Jack, please, it's going to be okay." He lay quietly, his eyes closed. Someone tried to pull her away. Rose gripped Jack's hand. "I love you, Jack."

His only response was a slight tightening of his hand around hers, just enough to let her know that he had heard her.

Someone from the helicopter began moving the stretcher toward it. Rose didn't move from where she was kneeling. Tears streamed down her face as she watched them loading the stretcher into the helicopter. She paid no attention as the cop talked quietly to the person who had wrapped her ankle. Then, to her surprise, someone picked her up.

"You're going, too," they told her. "Your ankle needs an X-ray, and that cut on your arm will probably need stitches." She found herself deposited inside the helicopter. The EMT was still working with Jack, trying to stem the bleeding from the wound in his back.

She looked at him; his face was grim. And Rose knew that things were very bad.


	3. Cataclysm 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Three

_Memorial Hospital  
Southland, California_

The helicopter set down atop the roof of Memorial Hospital. Even before the rotors stopped turning, medical personnel were already on the scene, having been alerted to their presence. Rose watched, anxiously, as Jack was taken from the helicopter.

He looked terrible. The EMT had managed to stop, or at least slow, the bleeding from the gunshot wound, but he was still unconscious, his face deathly pale in the harsh light, the bruises he had received earlier in his fight with Cal standing out in stark relief against his white face.

Someone brought a wheelchair for her. Rose moved toward it hesitantly, looking toward the door that Jack had been taken through. She was tempted to ignore the nurse and follow him, but common sense won out. She couldn't do anything for him; it was in the doctor's hands now. Reluctantly, she sat down.

The nurse wheeled her through the door, and Rose admitted silently to herself that she was glad not to have to walk. Her ankle seemed to throb with each heartbeat.

As the elevator brought them down to the ground floor, Rose turned to the nurse.

"Will he be all right?"

"Who?"

"Jack, the other person in the helicopter."

"I really can't say; I didn't do more than glance at him. What did you say his name was?"

"Jack Dawson."

The nurse nodded. "We'll need that information for the paperwork."

"You have to fill out paperwork first?"

"No, not in emergency cases. I'd imagine he's been taken right in for treatment."

Rose sighed with relief; at least he wouldn't have to wait for help.

"Do you know him?" the woman asked her.

"Yes." Rose's voice broke.

The nurse parked her wheelchair in the waiting room. "You need to relax," she told Rose.

"What?" Rose looked down at her hands; they were clenched, holding the arms of the wheelchair in a death grip.

"Working yourself into a panic won't help him at all. What you can do is fill out paperwork for both of you. It may be a while before anyone sees you; life-threatening emergencies come first, and there's a lot of those with the earthquake."

"Is it legal for me to fill out his paperwork? We aren't related."

"Are you a friend of his?"

"His girlfriend, actually." Rose was reasonably certain that was how Jack thought of her—he had said he loved her, after all, and she certainly returned his feelings, though she hoped he hadn't said he loved her just because he thought he was about to die.

"That's good enough. As long as you know enough about him to fill out his paperwork accurately, it's fine." The nurse brought Rose a clipboard and two piles of documents to fill out. "Someone will see you as soon as possible. There's about five other minor emergencies ahead of you, plus whoever is in serious need of care." She started to walk away.

"Wait!" Rose called. "How do I find out how Jack is doing?"

"When you finish the paperwork, tell the person at the desk that you're with him. Someone will keep you informed."

"Okay." Rose took the papers and tried to settle back in her chair, trying to get herself to relax. The nurse was right; getting herself worked up wouldn't help anything. She had to do her part to help both Jack and herself.


	4. Cataclysm 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Four

Rose sat in the waiting room, watching the sun rise outside the window. She held her crutches at an angle, propping up her injured foot.

It had been five o'clock before anyone had seen her. Twenty more severely injured people had been brought in, though only one had been in as bad a condition as Jack. As the night had worn on, a large number of people with less life-threatening injuries had also arrived. The volume had grown so great that emergency services had been set up in the parking lot for those whose injuries could be easily treated.

The waiting room was packed with people, and Rose wondered why she had not been asked to leave after her own injuries had been cared for. There was barely enough room for those in need of help, let alone those who were only waiting for word on friends or relatives.

Rose shifted uncomfortably and picked up a magazine, trying to concentrate on something other than her worry. She had seen a doctor an hour before, and had had the cut on her arm stitched and her ankle X-rayed. Fortunately, it was only sprained, and a nurse had wrapped it and given her a set of crutches before sending her back to the waiting room.

Rose glanced at the clock. It had been four hours since they had arrived, and there had been no word. She was about to go over to the front desk and ask about Jack when an exhausted-looking nurse stepped into the waiting room and called her name.

"Rose DeWitt-Bukater?"

Picking up the crutches and swinging herself forward, Rose made her way over to the woman, her heart in her throat. For all that she had hated waiting, at least the lack of news had meant that nothing serious had happened. Now she would have to face whatever news she received.

"You were with a patient named Jack Dawson?"

Rose nodded worriedly, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

"He's out of surgery now; you can see him."

Rose was visibly relieved. "He survived?"

The nurse regarded her cautiously. "He's alive, but in critical condition. He was in shock from blood loss when he was brought in, and he had to undergo surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage. The broken leg and head injury didn't help matters." When Rose began to speak, she held up her hand. "The doctor may be able to give you more details. I don't have all the information."

They made their way to an elevator and started up.

"He's in intensive care right now," she told Rose, stopping at the third floor.

"Do you think he'll make it?" Rose was almost afraid to ask.

"I really can't say. We'll know more when he wakes up."

"He hasn't regained consciousness?"

"He was put under anesthesia for the surgery."

"But if he was already unconscious..."

"He could have awakened during the surgery. For the safety and comfort of both patient and surgeon, it's best if that doesn't happen."

Rose nodded, agreeing. She would hate to wake up in the middle of someone probing her insides with a scalpel.

They had reached the room that Jack was in, and the nurse entered first, moving amongst the beds.

"There's more people in this room than we usually allow because of the earthquake. Two of the other hospitals in Southland were destroyed, as was the hospital in Masline. We got most of the critical patients."

They had reached Jack's bed. Rose stared, shocked, at the array of life-support equipment. He was surrounded by machines, each performing a different function to keep him alive.

She moved closer, trying not to disturb anything. An IV line supplied essential fluids and nutrients, while another transfused blood into his body. Another machine helped him to breathe.

"This is the ninth unit of blood we've pumped into him," the nurse told her. "He had lost so much blood by the time he was brought here, it's amazing he was still alive. He'll probably need more."

_If he survives,_ Rose thought. He looked almost as bad as when he had been brought in. His face was so pale it was almost white, and he lay very still. The only indication that he was alive was the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and the jagged lines that moved across the screen of the heart monitor, indicating that his heart was still beating.

Balancing on her crutches, she looked more closely at him. His left leg was in traction, suspended above him. His head was partly shaved and bandaged, turned slightly to the side to avoid putting pressure on the injured part.

She looked up as the nurse pulled a chair over to where Rose was standing.

"Sit down," the woman told Rose. "I'm going to find the doctor. He'll be able to tell you what's going on."

Gratefully, Rose sat down, not taking her eyes from Jack. He looked so weak, lying there; it was hard to believe that only hours earlier he had been strong and healthy. But she had learned a lot the previous night about how quickly things could change.

She reached for his hand, careful not to jar the needles. Had it been only hours earlier that they had raced down the hill together, laughing, unable to believe that things would change so quickly? Rose squeezed Jack's hand gently, praying that he would be all right.

The doctor hurried in, clipboard in hand. "Miss DeWitt-Bukater? I'm Dr. Rodriguez."

Rose turned to look at him, and stopped, startled. It was the same doctor who had seen her in the emergency room two weeks earlier. She wondered if he remembered her.

He didn't appear to. Rose guessed that an emergency room physician saw a lot of injuries similar to hers, many of them blamed on accidents.

"I remember you," she told him. "I saw you when I was in the emergency room here a couple of weeks ago with broken ribs and a concussion."

He looked a bit embarrassed, looking at her more closely and trying to place her. "I'm sorry…I don't quite—"

"It's okay," Rose assured him. "You probably see a lot of cases where women try to blame their injuries on accidents or their own clumsiness. However…" She took a deep breath, trying to think of the right words. "…my injuries weren't accidental, and the man who caused them was the same one who shot him last night, and for the same reason…jealousy."

He nodded. "There's someone already investigating this. They'll probably want your statement."

"I'll be glad to give it."

He nodded, then gestured for her to step out of the room so he could examine Jack. Rose stood and moved the chair out of the way, stepping outside the room but staying near the door.

When Dr. Rodriguez had completed his examination, he allowed her to come back in. "Are you family?"

"No."

"I need to speak to a family member, for reasons of confidentiality."

"I don't think he has any family." Rose mentally crossed her fingers as she said this. Jack had mentioned an uncle and some cousins in his home state of Wisconsin, but she had no idea how to contact them, or even if they would want to be contacted. "I'm his girlfriend."

He raised an eyebrow at that, guessing that whoever had shot the young man in the bed and beaten the woman some weeks earlier would object to that statement. Nevertheless, someone needed to know what was happening. He looked at the paperwork she'd filled out earlier; it listed Rose as Jack's emergency contact.

Glancing around to make sure no one was listening, he spoke softly to her. "Since you are his emergency contact, I'll tell you what's going on."

Rose nodded, unable to speak.

"He's in critical condition. When he was brought in, he was in shock. We were able to stabilize him, but shock from hemorrhage is often fatal. The bullet severed an artery, which was why he bled so much. He was lucky in one respect—when the bullet came to a stop, it partially blocked the severed artery, slowing the bleeding somewhat. We removed the bullet and reconnected the artery, but there are other injuries as well. He has a compound fracture in his left leg, and his skull is fractured, with some swelling of the brain. He has some other bruises and scrapes, but those are minor."

Rose had stood quietly through this explanation, her face growing paler with each new piece of bad news, until it was almost as pale as Jack's. She stumbled dizzily, leaning on her crutches for support. Dr. Rodriguez looked at her with concern.

"Here. Sit down. Put your head between your knees," he told her, trying to keep her from fainting.

Rose did as he asked, and after a moment she looked up at him. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Overall, what are his chances?"

"At this moment, I'd say he has about a thirty-five percent chance of survival. But we'll know more when he wakes up."

"How long should it take until he recovers from the anesthesia?"

"Probably not more than twenty minutes to half an hour, if that."

Rose nodded shakily. "Can I stay here with him for now?"

"As long as you stay out of the way." He pointed to the call button. "Let the nurse know when he wakes up."

"I will." Rose settled down to wait.


	5. Cataclysm 5

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Five**

About five minutes later, a police officer arrived to talk to Rose.

"Rose DeWitt-Bukater? I'm Officer Lydia Ross, Southland PD."

Reluctantly, Rose turned away from Jack. "Yes? How can I help you?"

"Dr. Rodriguez reported that you know who the assailant is in this case."

"That's right. It was Caledon Hockley, my ex-fiancé."

Officer Ross wrote her statement down, then looked at her strangely. "Caledon Hockley, the CEO of Sun Titan Industries?"

"Yes. He was upset that I had broken off our engagement. We were arguing, and when I walked away he pulled a gun. I think he meant to shoot me, but Jack got in the way, and got shot instead. He kept firing, I guess until he until he ran out of bullets, and then disappeared. I haven't seen him since."

Officer Ross wrote down what Rose had said, but she looked like she didn't quite believe her. Rose didn't blame her. Who would have thought that someone so wealthy and well-respected would be capable of such a thing? But it was true, nevertheless. Rose hoped that Cal would at least be arrested. She didn't expect him to be convicted—as she had told Jack earlier, Cal could afford the best lawyers—but she hoped that he would at least be brought down a notch. He had caused her so much misery.

"Anything else?"

Rose thought for a moment, debating whether she should mention Cal's actions toward her before that night. After a moment, she decided against speaking up. She still felt that she couldn't face the publicity of a rape trial.

Instead, she told her, "I saw him take something out from under the driver's seat of his car just after the earthquake. I didn't see what it was, but it might have been the gun."

"Did you know he had a gun?"

"No."

Officer Ross made a few more notes, then turned to leave. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome. I hope you catch him."

Rose turned back to Jack. He hadn't stirred. She glanced at the clock; almost twenty minutes had passed since the doctor had left. Settling into her chair, she resumed waiting, hoping that he would awaken soon.

The minutes ticked by. Jack didn't move. When thirty-five minutes had passed, Rose sat forward, worried, wondering why he wasn't waking up. Carefully, she shook his hand and spoke quietly to him, hoping that that would awaken him.

It didn't. By the time forty-five minutes had passed, Rose could wait no longer. She rang for the nurse.

Rose waited anxiously, hoping that there was an easy explanation for why Jack had not woken up. Maybe they had given him a little too much anesthesia, and it was just taking a little longer than usual for it to wear off. Maybe, in his weakened state, he had reacted to it differently than he should have, and would wake up in just a little while. Other possibilities, less hopeful ones, ran through her mind, but she pushed them away. Jack would be all right; he was a survivor. She couldn't bring herself to consider any other possibility.

The nurse finally arrived. Rose, her anxiety overwhelming her for a moment, exclaimed, "He should have been awake by now! Why is he still asleep?"

The nurse consulted Jack's chart, shaking her head. "You're right, he should be awake by now." Motioning to Rose to move out of the way, she did a perfunctory check of him, then shook her head again, looking worried. "I'm calling a doctor."

A few minutes later, a different doctor from the one who had spoken to Rose earlier came in. He spoke briefly with the nurse, then turned to Rose.

"We need to run some tests, so we need you to go back to the waiting room. We'll let you know whatever we find out."

Rose nodded shakily. "Could he just have been given too much anesthesia or something?"

He hesitated. "It's possible...but not likely. The best anesthesiologist on the staff worked with him during his surgery. We need to run those tests to find out what the problem is."

"All right." Taking her crutches, Rose moved quickly from the room, her worry almost overwhelming her. Jack would be all right. He had to be.


	6. Waiting 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Six

"Rose! Rose, wake up!"

Rose jumped, startled, as the speaker shook her. Blinking sleepily, she looked up, trying to remember where she was.

Michelle stood in front of her, looking at with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Rose looked around, finally remembering where she was she. She was sitting in a chair in the waiting room at Memorial Hospital. Stretching, stiff from sleeping in the uncomfortable chair, she sat up, trying to find her crutches. They were lying on the floor beside her.

Still groggy, Rose looked up at Michelle. Suddenly, as she became more alert, everything came back to her. "What time is it?"

Michelle looked at her watch. "8:30."

Anxiously, Rose struggled to her feet. She had been waiting for an hour and a half, and there had been no word. What if something had happened, and they had chosen not to disturb her while she was sleeping?

"Where are you going?" Michelle followed her to the front desk.

Rose leaned on the counter. The nurse, a different one from the one who had been there earlier, turned to look at her. "Can I help you?"

"Has there been any word on Jack Dawson?"

The nurse turned to look at a collection of sticky notes attached to the computer monitor. "Yes. About half an hour ago, one of the nurses came looking for you. You were sound asleep in that chair over there, so she told me to have you go up to intensive care as soon as you woke up."

"Did she say anything else?"

"No, just go on up there. Someone will be able to tell you what's going on."

"All right." Rose turned toward the elevators. Michelle followed her.

"Want some moral support?"

"Sure." Anxiously, Rose swung herself into the elevator. She leaned tiredly on her crutches as the door closed. She was exhausted, having gotten only an hour and a half of sleep in the last twenty-five hours, and her ankle ached. She felt dirty and sticky, and had already noted the layers of dirt and soot on her face. Her dress was stiff and stained with dried blood, and ripped in dozen places. She looked and felt awful, but her concern for Jack overwhelmed her own misery for the moment.

She found the room that Jack was in and hurried over to his bed. He hadn't stirred. Rose looked at him, her anxiety nearly overcoming her. He should have been awake hours ago.

The doctor had seen her come in and hurried over to her.

"How is he? What's going on?" Rose gripped her crutches so hard her knuckles turned white.

He hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the best way to tell her.

"He's in a coma." At Rose's horrified look, he explained, "The brain swelling got worse, which is probably why he's in a coma. There's no telling when, or if, he'll wake up. We're doing everything we can, but the prognosis is very poor."

Rose stared at him, not wanting to believe it. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible.

A voice came over the intercom, paging the doctor. He looked sympathetically at Rose's stricken face. "I'm sorry," he told her, before hurrying away.

The chair she had sat in earlier was still there. Rose sank into it, her hands shaking. Numbly, she stared at Jack. He didn't look quite as bad as earlier. His face had more color, and the blood transfusions had been stopped. Nevertheless, he was still pale, and he was completely still.

Gently, Rose took his hand, the one without the IV attached. Stroking his hand, she spoke quietly to him.

"Jack, come on. You've got to wake up. It's going to be okay; I know it is. You've just got to wake up."

Michelle had found another chair somewhere. Sitting next to Rose, she tapped her on the shoulder.

Rose jumped, startled; she had almost forgotten Michelle was there. She turned to look at her.

"You know, my grandpa's a preacher, and he always says that prayer is an important part of healing. Maybe we should try it now. It can't hurt."

Rose hesitated; she had never been one to pray much. Still, Michelle was right. It couldn't hurt. Bending her head, she prayed silently that Jack would wake up and recover. She wouldn't pray out loud; it made her think of the loud-mouthed, bigoted evangelists who swept down upon the campus of Elias University twice a year and angered the students so much the police had to stand nearby to protect the demonstrators. But she would ask for a little assistance. Jack needed all the help he could get.

She finally looked up. Michelle's head was bent, too, and Rose was suddenly grateful. Michelle didn't know Jack very well, but she still cared.

Rose sat quietly for a few minutes, holding Jack's hand. Finally, she spoke.

"This is all Cal's fault."

"How so?" Michelle had assumed that Jack's injuries were from the earthquake.

"Cal's the one who shot him in the back."

Michelle's mouth dropped open. "He's been shot?"

Rose nodded. "Cal was aiming for me, but Jack got in the way. We took cover between two half-collapsed buildings, which then collapsed on us. We had to climb out, which is when Jack got hit in the head with a chunk of concrete. If Cal hadn't pulled that gun, none of this would have happened."

"You're not still planning on marrying him, are you?"

Rose held up her hand, showing her bare finger. "I broke off the engagement before any of this happened, which was probably why he was so upset."

"I guess he didn't take it well."

"That's an understatement."

"I thought you were committed to him."

"Committed is a good word. That's what happens to crazy people, isn't it? Getting engaged to him was a colossal mistake. I wish I'd never met him."

"He did seem to be a real jerk, the few times I met him."

"He is. But I was dumb enough to keep hoping things would change, even though they just kept getting worse. I finally realized just how futile it was yesterday, and decided to end the relationship."

"What finally changed your mind?"

"Yesterday morning, he slammed my hand against a door frame because I disagreed with him." She showed Michelle her bruised wrist. Michelle raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Rose already knew her opinion of Cal.

Rose continued with her story, telling Michelle about picking up her wedding gown, about going to see Jack, and about the subsequent confrontation with Cal. She left out only a few details, such as the interlude in Jack's bedroom, and the fact that she had broken Jack out of jail.

"And now Jack's in a coma, and he might not make it," Rose concluded, her voice breaking. She took a deep breath, blinking her eyes rapidly, as she squeezed Jack's hand.

"Are you going to be okay?" Michelle asked her. "You're not going to cry, are you?"

"No," Rose told her, and promptly burst into tears. Michelle dug into her purse and handed Rose a crumpled tissue.

"Don't worry, it's clean," she told her, as Rose took it gingerly.

Rose tried to stop crying. But she was worried, frightened, and exhausted, and her aching ankle and ribs didn't help. "I'm sorry," she choked out, wiping her face on one of the few clean spots left on her skirt.

"Don't be," Michelle told her, handing her another tissue.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Rose asked her, swiping at her face with the tissue. It came away covered with dirt.

"I brought Mari here this morning."

"Mari? What happened?"

"Well, the dorm building survived the earthquake, but a bunch of things fell down. We cleaned up most of the mess, but Mari didn't realize until this morning that her lava lamp had also fallen down and broken. She figured it out right about the time she stepped on a shard of the broken glass and cut her foot open. I've never heard such...creative...swearing before," she told Rose. "She jumped up and down, hopped back up on her bed, and called the lava lamp a few things that shouldn't be repeated."

For some reason this struck Rose as hilarious. She clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles. Michelle looked at her oddly.

"Must be something in the air," she mumbled.

Rose finally stopped laughing. Clutching the crumpled tissues in her right hand, she shook her head. "I don't know what's come over me."

"You're probably overtired," Michelle told her. "I'd bet they're about through with Mari by now—there was a line, which was why I wandered off. Enough of the roads are passable here that we can get back to the dorm. Classes are canceled this week because of the earthquake—one of the dorms collapsed and the library caved in."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Quite a few people in the collapsed dorm were hurt, and three died that we know of. Luckily, it was that one story dorm, so there wasn't so much to fall, and about half of the people who lived there were out. No one was in the library except a custodian, and he got out okay. Lucky for him, he was near the door. If he'd been caught in amongst all those mazes of shelves, he would have been crushed."

"How do you know all this?"

"One of the campus cops helped get Mari to my car." She shook her head, then looked at Rose. "You're both strange. You laughed, and Mari tried to flirt with the cop."

"What's so strange about that?"

"His wife was right behind him."

"Oh."

"Why don't you come back to the dorm for a while? You aren't missing any classes, and you could get some clean clothes and some rest."

"I can't. What if something happens and I'm not here?"

"If he wakes up now and sees you, you'll probably scare him." She pulled a small mirror out of her purse and handed it to Rose. "You look like something out of a horror movie."

Rose had to admit she looked pretty bad. Her face was streaked with dirt and soot, she had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and her eyes were red from crying. Still, she didn't want to leave Jack. If something happened, she would never be able to forgive herself for not being there.

"No. If something happened, I wouldn't know."

"You could have them call you on your cell phone. I noticed the phones here are working, although they're not back at the dorm. The power's out, too, but you can still get cleaned up and rest. The water is still running."

Rose still shook her head. "I lost my cell phone—and my purse—in the earthquake."

Michelle tried another tactic. "Well, then, they could you on my cell phone, or Mari's. You aren't doing him any good, anyway, staying here and making yourself sick because you won't rest. What if he wakes up and discovers that you've hurt yourself?"

Rose sighed reluctantly, too tired to argue further. "All right. I'll go back to the dorm. But I want to come back here this afternoon."

"Fine. I'll bring you back then. Now, let's go find Mari."

Rose got up, then kissed Jack on the forehead before following Michelle.


	7. Waiting 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seven

They found Mari limping around the waiting room, looking for Michelle. Her cut foot had been stitched and bandaged, but she didn't have any crutches. Instead, she walked around on her heel, leaving the rest of her foot in the air.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, hurrying over to Michelle. "I've been looking all over the place for you—" She noticed Rose, moving slowly after Michelle on her crutches. Mari's mouth dropped open as she took in Rose's disheveled appearance. "Jesus! What happened to you? Earthquake? Staircase? Fiancé?"

"The first and the last," Rose told her wearily. "Are you psychic or something?"

Mari shrugged as they headed over to the front desk. "Maybe. My mom is psychic sometimes."

"All mothers are psychic," Michelle interjected. "My mom lives in Miami, and she still knows when I do something I shouldn't."

Rose quickly explained the situation to the nurse, who agreed to page her if there was any change. Satisfied, but still worried, Rose followed her roommates out the door.

"No, really," Mari was saying. "My mom can be psychic sometimes. She knows when things are about to happen. She called yesterday saying she had a weird feeling about something, and then the earthquake struck. We're just lucky our house is up in the hills, since the Lake Perris dam broke. We've still got a house."

"She was probably just worried that you were going to try another weird herbal concoction and poison yourself again. She couldn't have known about the earthquake."

"I think she did. Some people do, and so do a lot of animals."

They had reached Michelle's car. Michelle and Mari got into the front seat, while Rose crawled into the back and tried to stretch out.

"So, you're saying your mother is a dog, then?"

"Don't insult my mother!"

Rose leaned her head against the door, listening to them bicker. Half of her tried to concentrate on their conversation; it was easier than paying attention to her own thoughts. The other half wished they would shut up.

Mari went on. "You sound like that stupid doctor. 'Don't use any herbal preparations.'"

Rose half sat up in the back seat. "Your reputation precedes you."

A week earlier, Mari had incorrectly identified a plant that she had been studying in botany class and had tried to use some of it as a tea. The plant had turned out to be jimsonweed, a toxic plant that, fortunately, was rarely fatal. However, Mari had been quite affected by its psychotropic properties and had wound up in the emergency room. Her medical file had still been at the emergency room when the earthquake struck.

Mari turned around to look at her. "You don't have to be so bitchy."

"I'm being bitchy?"

"You didn't cut your foot open on broken glass."

"No, I just sprained my ankle under a fallen light pole."

"What are you doing here, anyway? Couldn't you take care of that at home?"

"I refuse to answer that on grounds that you're incapable of understanding."

"What?! Try me."

"No."

"Rose, you stupid—"

"Why don't both of you shut up?" Michelle suggested. "You're giving me a headache. Maybe I should just let you walk the two blocks left to the dorm."

"No!" Rose and Mari shouted in unison.

"Then be quiet."

"Fuck you," Rose mumbled sullenly, leaning back against the door and propping her ankle up on the opposite window.

"Yeah," Mari agreed, examining her bandage.

Michelle put on the brakes.

"Don't even think about it," Mari told her, scowling. "Or I'll make you help me disinfect my foot with mouthwash."

"Mouthwash?!" Now Michelle and Rose were shouting in unison.

"Didn't they give you any disinfectant?"

"No. They asked if I had anything to disinfect it with, and I asked if mouthwash would work, and they said yes, so I didn't get any. They're running short on supplies, anyway."

"Maybe the campus health clinic will have some disinfectant."

"They're busy taking care of the victims of that dorm collapse."

"Nevertheless..."

"I guess I'll have to use mouthwash, too," Rose said, as Michelle parked the car.

"On your ankle?" Mari asked, confused.

"On my arm." Rose pulled back her tattered sleeve to reveal the bandage. "A piece of concrete landed on me and Jack."

"Jack?" Mari raised her eyebrows. "What did Cal have to say about that?"

"'I hope you enjoy your time together!'" Rose mimicked. "That was after he'd shot him in the back."

"And you wanted to marry this guy."

"It's over. And I've already spent enough time berating myself and listening to Michelle lecture me about my stupid fiancé. I don't need your input."

Michelle intervened before they could fight again. "Everyone is stressed out and overtired. Let's just go upstairs."

"Fine." Rose clumsily made her way to the door. It was dim inside; the power was still out. Fortunately, it was a bright, sunny day, so there was still adequate light.

"We have to take the stairs," Michelle informed them, heading for the stairwell. Mari and Rose limped after her, grumbling about having a room on the third floor.

Rose was ready to collapse by the time she reached the third floor. The crutches dug into her injured ribs as she climbed the stairs, and climbing was clumsy with them anyway. Two flights of stairs had never seemed so long.

"Rose?" Mari said as they reached the door.

"Yeah?" Rose wanted to avoid another fight.

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch. Is Jack okay?"

Rose shook her head. "He's in a coma. That's why I wanted the hospital to call me if there was any change. He was in shock from blood loss, and he got hit on the head with the concrete. They said...they said the prognosis is very poor." Her voice was choked. "I'm going back this afternoon."

Mari shook her head sympathetically. "I hope the doctor is wrong, Rose. I hope he gets better. He seems like a nice guy—I think you'd do better with him than with Cal."

Rose sank down on her bed, elevating her ankle. "You're right. I ended the engagement last night—which led to all this."

"Jack came by here about a week and a half ago, looking for you. I guess he found you."

"He did. And I sent him away." Rose cursed herself for wasting so much time.

"Why?"

"I felt that the only way my relationship with Cal would work out was by avoiding Jack." Rose put up her hand before Mari could ask any questions. "Yes, it has something to do with the 'staircase'. I'd rather not discuss it, though. At least not now."

Mari nodded, and then looked at her. "I think right now you need to get some rest. You look ready to collapse."

"I feel ready to collapse. I just have to do a few things first." She looked at Michelle. "Can I borrow your cell phone real quick? I need to try to call my mother and tell her where I am."

"Sure." Michelle handed it to her. "Just don't talk too long. I have no way of recharging the battery."

Rose quickly turned the power on and punched in her home phone number, hoping that her mother's phone was still working.

Ruth answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Mom? It's Rose."

"Rose! Thank God. I was so worried...where are you?"

"I'm at the dorm."

"How did you get there? I thought your car was destroyed."

"It was. I was taken by helicopter to Memorial Hospital late last night."

"Memorial Hospital?" Ruth's voice was filled with worry.

"I'm okay, Mom. I just have a sprained ankle and a cut on my arm. I'll heal."

"Well, you'll need to stay in Southland for a while. Most of the roads are impassable."

"It's okay. I was planning on that anyway."

Ruth wondered at the catch in Rose's voice, but didn't question her further. She had other news to impart.

"Rose, I'm afraid I have some very bad news."

Rose's heart pounded with anxiety. "What is it, Mom?"

"Sophie came by here this morning, looking for you. Apparently she was home from college for the weekend, and Trudy was visiting. They were leaving when the earthquake struck, and the big pine tree in Sophie's front yard fell on her car. Trudy was sitting in the passenger seat at the time, and you know that that convertible offered no protection. Sophie had gone back to get something she forgot, but Trudy was right in the path of the tree. Sophie hurried back as quickly as she could, but it was already too late." At Rose's shocked gasp, she tried to comfort her. "Sophie thinks that Trudy was probably killed instantly. She didn't suffer."

Rose's mouth snapped open and shut, unable to form any words for a moment. Trudy, her best friend, was dead. The young girl with the sparkling eyes, perpetual smile, and endless optimism had fallen victim to the earthquake.

"Rose, are you still there?"

Rose finally found her voice, though it quavered a bit. "Yeah, Mom, I'm still here. Is Sophie still over there?"

"No, she left a while ago and went home. Everyone in her family is okay."

"That's something, I guess." Rose turned her back on her roommates, who were watching her curiously. As she sniffed and wiped at her eyes, Ruth went on.

"I have more bad news."

"Oh, God." Rose didn't know how much more she could stand. "What is it, Mom?"

"Cal's been arrested."

"Thank God!"

"Rose!" Ruth sounded shocked. "How can you rejoice over something like that?"

"He tried to kill me last night, Mom."

"He did not!"

"Yes, he did! How would you know? You weren't there!"

"I simply cannot believe that a man like him would be capable of murder."

"Believe it, Mom. He is."

"I don't believe you."

"He tried to shoot me. He might have succeeded if Jack hadn't gotten in the way."

"Jack?"

"You remember him, Mom. He's called a few times, and he stopped by once in April to drop off the bridesmaid's dress that Helga made for me."

"What were you doing with Jack?" Ruth's voice had a suspicious edge to it.

"I was walking down the street."

"And Cal suddenly pulled out a gun and shot at you."

"No, we got into an argument first. Cal had tried to frame Jack for stealing the engagement ring after I gave it back to him."

"You gave it back?!"

"I ended the engagement, Mom."

"You shouldn't have done that."

Rose reminded herself to count to ten before continuing. "Do you have any idea how he treated me, Mom? No, of course you wouldn't, because he always behaved like a perfect gentleman in front of you. In private, he had a quick temper and even quicker fists. I've had more bruises in the past year than I had the whole time I was a child."

"If he hit you, Rose, I'm sure there was a good reason for it."

Rose's mouth fell open in shock, but she managed to reply. "There's never a good reason."

"Rose, I don't mean to point fingers, but you can be a handful sometimes. He probably felt it was necessary."

"I'm sure he did. But he was still wrong. Breaking off the engagement is the smartest thing I've ever done."

"Well, Rose, it's up to you. But if you break things off with him, you'll no longer be living in my house."

"That's fine, Mom. I've got a place to stay."

"You'll be done with school in a few weeks. Where will you go then?"

"Jack's house. It's very low rent."

"So, you expect him to support you?"

"I plan on finding a job. I'll do whatever I have to, even go on welfare if I must. But I will not marry Cal."

"The wedding is six weeks away!"

"The wedding is never!" Rose took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Cal is one of the most vicious, unprincipled individuals I have ever met. Not just with me, but with anyone. He cut corners on building projects to raise profits for himself, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people. He tried to frame Jack for a crime he did not commit. He's beaten me repeatedly, and worse. He shot Jack, and nearly shot me. Now Jack is in a coma, and might not survive."

"People do strange things when they're upset," Ruth told Rose, an edge to her voice. "You need to learn to be more forgiving."

"More forgiving?!" The previous night's conversation with Cal suddenly came to the front of her mind. _You want to forgive me? I'm the one who should be forgiving you._ She had forgiven Cal repeatedly for his behavior, and he had hurt her for it every time. Forgiveness had its limits.

"He's a good man."

"Mom, have you heard a word I've said? He's a vicious bastard. I would rather starve to death than spend one day with him." Her hands were shaking so hard that she could barely hold onto the phone. "I hate him. The only reason I want to see him again is to testify against him in court. I hope he rots in prison." Her voice was rising. Someone in the next room shouted at her to shut up and banged on the wall. "Good-bye, Mother."

Rose broke the connection and turned off the power. Shaking with grief and rage, she tossed the phone back to Michelle. How could her mother act like this? How could she defend Cal's attempt to kill her? She was glad she had kept quiet about the events of that Sunday morning two weeks earlier. Her mother would undoubtedly have condemned her for that, too.

She was almost glad that her mother planned on throwing her out. She couldn't live with her. Rose got up, trying to calm herself. Whether Jack lived or not, she was still moving into his house. Tommy would allow it, at least for a while—if he was even still alive.

How many friends would she have to lose? Trudy was dead, and Jack had little hope of survival. Who else had been hurt or killed? And Cal—Cal would probably get a slap on the wrist, if that much. He might even come after her again.

Rose opened the small closet and dug through her box of clothes, pulling out a clean pair of jeans and a top. She needed to change out of her filthy, bloodstained dress.

Rose turned to see her roommates staring at her. "What are you looking at?" she snapped, trying to calm her temper. She was furious, exhausted, worried, and grieving, and she did not want to be looked at.

"Are you okay, Rose?" Mari asked her.

Rose lost her composure. "No!" she wailed, bursting into tears again. It seemed like all she did these days was cry. "My best friend is dead and my mother thinks my ex-fiancé is an angel."

The person on the other side of the wall knocked again. Rose just cried harder. Dropping her clothes on the floor, she fell facedown across her bed, crying hysterically.

Her roommates looked at her a bit uncomfortably. After a moment, when Rose had calmed down a little, Michelle finally spoke up.

"Why don't you go take a shower and change your clothes? The hot water is broken, but you would probably feel better clean."

Rose sat up, struggling to compose herself. Michelle was right; she probably would feel better. She needed to rest, too, and maybe eat something.

Sliding off her bed, she collected her scattered clothes, and pulled another box out from under the bed. Rummaging through it, she picked out shampoo, soap, everything she needed to get clean.

She suddenly swore under her breath as she picked up another item—her packet of birth control pills. She had completely forgotten about them. Suddenly glad that she had made a habit of leaving most of them in the dorm, she dug one out of the foil and swallowed it. She was three and a half hours late in taking it, but she hoped it wouldn't make a difference. With all the turmoil in her life, the last thing she needed was to get pregnant. Still, she wasn't sorry for what she and Jack had done the evening before, even if it did leave her in a worrisome position.

Rose collected her crutches and started out of the room. It was difficult to carry everything and lean on the crutches at the same time, but she managed. As she reached the door, Mari suddenly called to her.

"Here. You might need this." She tossed Rose a small keychain flashlight. "There's no light in the bathroom, and this is the only flashlight any of us has. You don't want to break your neck in there."

At the moment, Rose wasn't so sure about that, but she took the flashlight anyway, wobbling precariously out the door and down the hall.

The restroom was deserted when she got there. Despite the pitch blackness, Rose was glad to be alone. She needed time to think, apart from the noise of other people.

Rose shuddered as she stepped under the cold water. She wished there was hot water; she would have liked to soak her ankle. Still, the cold water numbed it a little, and Rose leaned against the wall for a few minutes, letting the cold clear her mind.

_Why did everything happen?_ she wondered. _Why did the earthquake have to happen now, when life is finally looking up for me?_ In the course of a few short hours, her entire world had come crashing down.

Rose put her head under the spray, forcing back tears. She was tired of crying. But it was hard not to, when everything had gone so horribly wrong.

Her best friend was dead. Rose rested her head against the wall, clutching the bar of soap so tightly it slipped from her hand and dropped to the floor with a thud. _Why did it have to be Trudy?_ she wondered. Trudy was only eighteen; her nineteenth birthday would have been in September. She remembered her friend's bright smile and giggles. Everything amused her, even things that Rose didn't always find funny. Trudy could find a silver lining in the darkest cloud. Rose had no doubt that Trudy would have found some good in Cal, even if she had known him as well as Rose had. It was just the way she was. Rose winced, realizing that she hadn't spoken to Trudy since the wedding—and now she never would.

She sank to her knees, searching for the soap on the shower floor. Finding it, she sat under the cold water, still thinking.

Why did it always seem to be the best and brightest that the world had to offer that suffered? She had heard an old saying, that the good die young, and maybe it was true. Rubbing her ankle gently, Rose thought about Jack.

He was one of the nicest people she had ever met, despite his troubled past, and was a talented artist who could see people for what they really were. Now, he lay in intensive care at Memorial Hospital, fighting for his life. He might never wake up, never draw another picture, or look out over a beautiful sight, or whirl her around crazily, laughing the whole time. He was the first person she had ever loved so deeply, and, she suspected, the last. Whatever happened, whether he lived or died, she would never feel quite the same way about anyone else. This was different than the crushes she had had in school, different from what she had felt for the one steady boyfriend she had had before Cal. There was a depth to these feelings that she had never known before, and Rose was glad that she had told Jack how she felt, glad that he returned her feelings.

She would be there for him, until he recovered, or until he died. And whatever happened, she wouldn't give up. She wouldn't attempt to jump off another staircase landing, or anything else. She was stronger than that now. She would go on, and, as Jack had once commented to her, "make it count."

Rose shook her head, contemplating the unfairness of everything that had happened, then allowed herself a small smile. At least Cal had been arrested. Maybe there was justice in the world. She pictured Cal's reaction to being arrested, almost laughing as she thought of it. He was undoubtedly furious, but it was about time he was taken down a notch or two.

Slowly, Rose got up, shivering, and shut off the water. There might be broken water mains in Southland, so she shouldn't waste the water. Limping, she picked up her towel and switched on the tiny flashlight.

_I do feel a little better,_ she thought, as she peered into the mirror. She certainly looked better, with the dirt and soot washed away. Her eyes were still a bit red, and there were still dark circles under them, but she no longer looked like a horror movie victim.

Rose dressed quickly and made her way back to the dorm room. She had forgotten to bring shoes, but with her ankle still so swollen, she could only have worn one of them anyway. She had re-wrapped her ankle, and re-bandaged the cut on her arm, which she hoped would not get infected. She only had one bandage for her arm, so she had washed it out and re-used it. Not the cleanest thing to do, but the only option she had at the moment.

Her roommates were sitting on the floor when she returned, rummaging through the miniature refrigerator that Mari had brought from home. Michelle patted a spot on the floor when she saw Rose.

"We're cleaning out the refrigerator. With no power, all our food will rot unless we eat it right away. You can help us."

Rose didn't have much of an appetite, but she realized that she needed to eat. Tossing her belongings into her box, she lowered herself to the floor beside them. Mari handed her a slice of cold pizza left over from the previous evening and a small carton of milk that one of them had brought from the eating area.

Rose ate mechanically, not really tasting the food. Mari and Michelle chattered amiably, eating everything they thought might be perishable. Rose half-listened, feeling her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

"Rose? You want the last slice of pizza?" Mari asked her, offering her the food. Rose shook herself, trying to pay attention.

"No," she mumbled sleepily. Michelle looked at her sternly.

"You need to eat more, Rose."

"Well...maybe I could finish off those canned peaches you left in there."

By the time she was finished eating, she could barely keep her eyes open. Holding onto her bed to support herself, Rose climbed on top of it and covered herself with the afghan her grandmother had made for her.

In minutes, she was asleep.


	8. Waiting 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eight

_Rose slowly made her way down the stairs. The morning sun lit the dining area of her home, but for some reason she felt cold and afraid. Someone was there, waiting. As she stepped into the room, she saw Cal standing in front of the counter, watching her with a knowing smirk on his face. She turned to run, but it was as though her feet were glued to the floor. She couldn't move, couldn't get away. His hand connected with her face, opening a jagged line below her eye. Then his hands were on her, tearing at her clothes. Rose struggled, but she couldn't stop him. Suddenly, Jack was there, grabbing Cal, driving him away from her. She watched helplessly as they fought over her, wanting them to stop, but unable even to cry out. The diamond ring flashed in the sunlight, and two cops dragged Jack away as he shouted to her. The earth shook, and Jack was trapped in the prison cell, as the guard sprawled, bleeding, over a once pristine desk. An ax smacked against the ceiling, and the smell of smoke filled the room. The ceiling caved in, and Cal was there, brandishing a gun. Rose tried to stop him, but she wasn't fast enough; it was as though she were wading through icy molasses. A shot rang out, and Jack fell to the ground, blood pouring out of him and running into the gutter. Cal turned on her, moving closer and closer. Another shot rang out, and the walls collapsed. She screamed..._

* * *

"Jesus!" The book flew from Mari's hands, sliding down between two beds. She reached down, fishing for it, as Rose sat up, her hands clamped over her mouth, trying to stifle her terrified screams. The person in the next room banged on the wall, yelling.

Mari threw the book at the wall, narrowly missing Rose. "_You_ shut up!" she screeched. There was a pause on the other side, followed by laughter. Mari's colorful response filled the air.

Rose clutched at her pillow, trying to calm her pounding heart. _It was just a dream,_ she told herself, over and over. _It's over; it can't hurt you_...

She nearly jumped out of her skin as Mari limped over to pick up her book. "You sure can scream," Mari told Rose. "Nightmare?"

"Nightmare, daymare, reality...what time is it?"

"It's twelve o'clock. You've been asleep for about forty-five minutes. I didn't think people started dreaming until they'd been asleep several hours. I guess my high school biology teacher was wrong."

"It's almost afternoon. I need to leave."

"I'll take you over to Memorial at three," Michelle told her. "Now go back to sleep."

"No, I want to leave now."

"At three."

"Now!"

"Nope." Michelle wasn't letting Rose run off. "It's three miles to Memorial Hospital, so I don't suggest you try to walk. And I've got the car keys."

"Why don't you just let me drive myself? I'll bring your car back."

"I'd love to see you try. It's a stick shift, so you need both feet to operate it. And I don't think that ankle will allow it."

"You promise you'll bring me over there at three?"

"Cross my heart."

"But not your fingers," Rose told her, lying back down. "I can't sleep, though."

"Fine. Do what you want. Just don't scream."

Rose lay back. She was still exhausted, but the nightmare made her afraid to sleep again. Every time her eyes started to close, the terrifying vision returned, and she jumped awake.

Mari noticed. "You know, Rose, I know of something that might help."

"Mari, I am not trying one of your herbal concoctions. I'd probably wind up in a coma myself."

Mari looked offended. "This stuff is perfectly safe. I bought it at GNC."

"What is it?"

"It's valerian. It's good for insomnia and anxiety, and I bet it would help you."

Rose thought for a moment. She had heard of it before, but still...

"All right, I'll try it. But if this stuff kills me, I'm coming back to haunt you."

"It won't. Trust me." Mari rummaged in the cardboard box she kept under her bed, finally emerging triumphant with a small plastic bottle of valerian capsules. She twisted off the cap and handed two to Rose, along with a small bottle of water.

"Don't bite them. The stuff smells like dirty socks," she warned Rose, as Rose looked at the capsules suspiciously. She finally gulped them down, consuming half the water in the process.

"You know what else might help?" Mari rummaged under her bed again. "Music."

"Not that awful folk music," Michelle complained.

"It's wonderful," Mari retorted. "And I'd bet Rose will like it, too. She's so into human rights, and this singer, Pete Seeger, sang all about that stuff. Besides, music soothes the savage beast."

"I'm not a beast!"

"You're a human," Mari replied, putting the CD into the player and attaching the headphones. "Come on, just try it. This one is called _American Industrial Ballads_. My dad bought me a whole collection of this stuff last Christmas. So, when you start thinking about...whatever it is that's giving you nightmares, just think about all the misery that other people have, and you'll forget about it."

"Wonderful," Rose said dryly, but she accepted the headphones and switched on the music. Lying back, she pulled the afghan over herself and concentrated on the music. It was soothing, she had to admit after a moment. Not so much because of the subject material, but because it was good music. If she concentrated upon the rhythm, instead of the words, she found it very relaxing.

Halfway through _Eight-Hour Day_, she was sound asleep again, and the nightmare did not return.


	9. Waiting 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Nine

Michelle woke Rose at three o'clock. After slipping on a single sneaker, Rose followed Michelle out to the parking lot.

Workers were already fixing the downed power lines, so it took about ten minutes to get out of the parking lot. The trip to the hospital was faster than before, though, because a lot of the debris had already been cleared. Although Southland had been hit hard, it was on more stable ground than Masline, and the damage was considerably less.

They reached the hospital just before 3:30. Rose hurried into the waiting room, arguing with Michelle the whole time.

"I'll be back for you at four o'clock."

"Four o'clock! That only gives me half an hour! Make it 5:30."

"4:30."

"Who appointed you my mother? Five o'clock."

"Fine. I'll see you then. I'm going to walk around and see what's going on out there."

"Be careful."

"Yes, Mother."

Rose made a face at her and headed inside. The shower, food, and rest had improved her disposition considerably, although she was still terribly worried about Jack.

After waiting in line for a few minutes, Rose was able to ask after him.

"He's having some tests run right now," the nurse told her, checking the now working computer. "You can go up and see him in about ten minutes."

"Is he in the same room?"

The nurse checked. "Room 603."

"Right." Rose sat quietly for a few minutes, then headed for the elevator.

She reached the room just as the doctor was on his way out. He stopped, rubbing his eyes tiredly, trying to place her.

"Dr. Rodriguez? Has there been any change?"

"You're...Flora, right?"

"Rose."

"Rose." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I knew it had something to do with flowers. Yes, there has been some change. The brain swelling is starting to go down."

"Is that good?"

"Definitely. We still can't be sure he'll recover, but it is a step in the right direction."

"Has he shown any signs of waking up?"

Dr. Rodriguez shook his head. "I'm afraid not." He yawned.

"You should get some rest."

He shook his head. "Can't. Not until seven. Though at the moment, I'd gladly exchange places with your friend there."

At Rose's shocked look, he apologized. "Sorry. Bad joke. I've been working since four o'clock yesterday afternoon, and it's never been so hectic. The earthquake and all. I think I'll find some coffee."

Rose stopped him. "Is there anything I can do to help him?" She gestured to Jack.

He shook his head. "At this point, it's mostly a matter of waiting. About all you can do is be there for him, though he probably won't realize you're there."

Rose nodded. "But the brain swelling is going down…"

"We aren't certain how much, if any, brain damage there is, and his other injuries complicate matters a great deal."

Rose nodded slowly. She hadn't thought about the possibility of brain damage. Depending upon it's extent, it's effects could range from minor to severe. He could be fine, with few or no problems, or he could wind up hopelessly crippled, either physically or mentally, or even wind up a vegetable.

She shuddered, trying to squelch the thought that he would be better off dead. Whatever happened, she would be there for him. But she knew that he would hate to live as a mental cripple, unable to care for himself or do the things he had once enjoyed. She thought that he was strong enough to find a way to overcome any physical limitations these injuries might bring, but it was much harder to overcome an injury of the mind.

Rose sighed, sitting down next to him. There was no guarantee that he would ever wake up, and, despite the problems that could arise, Rose desperately hoped that he would. Many people suffered head injuries with no lasting effects. She had had one herself two weeks earlier. Of course, she had only had a concussion, not a skull fracture, and she hadn't wound up in a coma. But even if there was brain damage, it might not be too severe, and he might be able to learn to overcome it. She'd heard of people who'd had severe strokes or who had been shot in the head who had still managed to recover, for the most part.

Reaching for Jack's hand, Rose stroked it gently, trying to convey to him that she was there. She had no idea if he could perceive things going on outside himself, but she had to try. Squeezing his hand, she spoke softly, quietly, telling him about the things going on around them, about Cal's arrest, about Trudy's death, about Mari and the jimsonweed, even about the folk music she was learning to appreciate. Anything and everything that she could think of.

After a while, Rose fell silent. Looking at him, she could see that someone had cleaned him up. When she had been there that morning, his face had been almost as dirty as hers, and had been prickly with a day's growth of beard. Someone had bathed him and shaved him, working around the various equipment he was hooked up to and the bruises and contusions that covered his face and body.

Gently, Rose put her hand to his face. "I love you, Jack," she whispered, hoping that somehow he knew what she was saying. Holding his hand in both of hers, she tried to convey her love for him, and her hope that he would recover.

Propping up her foot, Rose settled back, maintaining her vigil, praying that he would recover. For the next hour, until Michelle returned for her, Rose held Jack's hand, occasionally speaking quietly to him, other times trying to transfer her own energy to him, trying to heal him. But Jack never stirred.

Michelle finally returned at 5:30. Lugging four plastic convenience store bags, she made her way into the room.

"Rose."

Rose looked up, still holding Jack's hand.

"How is he?"

"Dr. Rodriguez said the brain swelling is going down, but they still don't know what his chances are."

"He hasn't woken up?"

Rose shook her head. "No." She thought for a moment. "I want to stay here, with him. You go on back."

"Uh-uh. You're coming with me."

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Telling me what to do."

"Because you're my friend, and I know you well enough to know that when you get something on your mind, you won't let go of it until it's resolved. Who knows how long it will be until anything happens with him? You still look exhausted, and you need to eat and care for your injuries, and let the doctors and nurses take care of Jack. You won't help him by hurting yourself, and I've got a bunch of things that can be put to good use back in the dorm."

"Where did you get all that, anyway?"

"I helped a convenience store owner clean up broken glass and fallen shelves. He gave me a bunch of stuff in return. I've got food—beef jerky, chips, canned fruit, candy, soda—even some cookies."

"Health food," Rose replied, a little sarcastically.

"High energy food, which is what people need at times like this. I've also got some first aid supplies—clean bandages for you and Mari, hydrogen peroxide, multi-vitamin supplements, Band-Aids, and some Tylenol. No more disinfecting wounds with mouthwash."

Rose half-smiled at this; she had already discovered that mouthwash on stitches stung badly. But she still didn't want to leave Jack.

"I'll bring you back here at eight o'clock tomorrow," Michelle promised her, "and you can get the hospital to call you if anything happens."

Rose finally nodded reluctantly; she was tired, and she couldn't help Jack by sitting there and wearing herself out.

"All right." She got up, leaning on her crutches, and kissed Jack good-bye, promising him that she would be back.


	10. Waiting 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ten

True to her word, Michelle returned Rose to the hospital early the next morning. Both Michelle and Mari were almost glad to see Rose go; she had awakened them twice during the night with her screams. The second time, Michelle had threatened to gag her, but it hadn't been necessary. Rose had finally managed to calm down enough to sleep peacefully through the rest of the night.

Nevertheless, a disgruntled Michelle had dropped Rose off at Memorial Hospital that morning, suggesting rather snidely that if Rose fell asleep by Jack's side, she might wake him with her screams if she had the nightmare again. Rose, still shaken from the repeated dreaming, had not dignified the remark with a reply.

Rose spent most of the day by Jack's side, leaving only when one of the doctors or nurses needed to work with him. One nurse allowed her to help move him, so that his limbs wouldn't stiffen from being in one position for so long, and for the first time, Rose hoped that he truly didn't comprehend anything going on around him. She knew that he would hate to see himself this way, unable even to move by himself.

There had been no change in his condition. Rose had tried to reassure herself that at least he wasn't any worse, but she didn't know how long he could survive in this unconscious condition. She had heard of people who remained in comas for years, and sincerely hoped that he wouldn't be one of them. The longer he stayed in the coma, the less chance he had of a complete recovery.

Tommy and Helga showed up around 3:30. One of the highways connecting Masline and Southland had finally been cleared enough for people to get through, and they had come looking for Jack and Rose.

Helga looked terrible. Her head was bandaged, her usually bouncy blonde hair hanging limp and tangled, but worse than that was her face, pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. Tommy didn't look much better. His face was tense and strained, and he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. Both looked like they'd been through an ordeal.

Rose was glad to see them at first, but her smile faded when she saw the look on Helga's face and noticed Fabrizio's absence. "What happened?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Fabrizio was killed...in the earthquake," Helga told her, her eyes overflowing again. "That horrible, rickety Sunpeak building collapsed. They didn't even start looking for survivors until the next day. By then, it was too late. They only found six survivors...and hundreds of bodies. Fabrizio was one of those killed in the collapse. It looked like he had survived for a while, but died before he was found. If they had just started looking sooner, he might have lived." She started crying in earnest.

Tommy put an arm around his cousin, trying to comfort her. "Helga's apartment building caved in," he told Rose. "Luckily, she was standing in the doorway when the earthquake struck, talking to someone. A hanging plant fell and hit her on the head, giving her a nasty cut and a mild concussion, but she'll be okay. My house is still standing, with only a little damage—a few broken windows, a section of ceiling caved in—so she's back living with me. I found her at this makeshift hospital that had been set up in the Wal-Mart parking lot. She was well enough to leave, so she came with me. We went looking for you and Jack late yesterday, but when you weren't in any of the shelters, and you weren't on the list of those who had died, we started asking around. Sophie said that your mother said that you had been taken to Memorial Hospital, so as soon as the road was cleared, we came looking for you." He hesitated. "Did you hear about Trudy?"

"Yes." Rose looked from Tommy, to Helga, to Jack, and back to Tommy again. "I called Mom on my roommate's cell phone, and she told me what had happened." Rose felt like crying herself, but it seemed like she had no tears left. She had cried so much in the past two days that she was worn out.

"It's so unfair." Helga suddenly spoke up, her voice choked from crying. "Why did this have to happen now? Fabrizio and I had only been married two weeks. We'll never have the chance to live out our lives together, to grow old together, to have children..." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Where's your fiancé?" she asked Rose.

"In jail," Rose told her, tiredly. "He tried to kill Jack and me." She looked at Jack's motionless form. "He may yet succeed in killing Jack."

"He tried to kill you two?" Tommy and Helga both looked at her in shock, their other problems forgotten for the moment.

"He shot Jack in the back as we ran away from him. Earlier that evening, he had Jack framed for stealing my engagement ring. I broke Jack out of jail just before the flames reached it, and as we were walking back through town, away from the flames, Cal confronted us. Cal and I started arguing, and Jack intervened, saying that I hadn't helped him get out of jail at all, because Cal was threatening to tell the police what I did. We started walking away, and then Jack turned around and saw Cal pulling the gun. We started running, and Jack pushed me in front of him, so Cal shot him instead of me. We took shelter in between a couple of half-collapsed buildings, which then collapsed the rest of the way. While we were trying to escape, a piece of concrete fell on us. So now Jack has a fractured skull, and is in a coma. He's doing better than he was—the doctor said the brain swelling has gone down—but he hasn't shown any sign of waking up."

"How long has he been in a coma?" Helga asked. Her work as a nurse in the intensive care unit of one of the now collapsed hospitals in Southland had taught her a great deal about comatose patients.

"Since at least seven o'clock yesterday morning, probably longer. They had him under general anesthesia while they operated on the bullet wound, in case he regained consciousness, but afterwards he didn't wake up. They don't know if he will or not."

"If he's going to recover, he'll most likely wake up soon," Helga told her. "The longer that people stay in comas, the less chance they have of recovering. Some people have stayed in a coma for years and recovered, but they're pretty rare. Most either wake up within a short time—a few days, at most—or they die. Jack's already been in a coma for at least thirty-three hours, so if he's going to wake up, it'll most likely be soon. His chances are already decreasing, from having been unconscious so long. Still, a lot of people wake up after a few days in a coma and are fine. Maybe Jack will be one of them."

Rose reached for Jack's hand, hoping against hope that he would wake up and make a full recovery.

"Why did Cal try to kill you?" Tommy asked.

"He was upset that I had broken off the engagement, and was convinced that Jack was the reason. I guess that when he failed to discredit Jack in my eyes, he felt he needed to take more drastic measures. Cal is one of those people whose view is 'if I can't have her, no one can'. He was a despicable person to begin with, and he couldn't stand to see me with someone else, so he did everything in his power to stop it."

"A crime of passion."

"Probably. He always was rather impulsive." Rose shuddered inwardly, realizing that Cal had probably never planned any of the beatings he had given her, or the rape, or the attempt to kill her. His temper was violent and unpredictable, which made him all the more dangerous. His obsessive need to keep an eye on her had only exacerbated the situation.

"Did he know about you and Jack?"

"He always thought something was happening between us."

"I thought you two were just friends," Helga interjected.

"They were, until two days ago," Tommy told her. "Then they took it to the next level."

Rose turned red, remembering Tommy's shocked, embarrassed expression when he had walked in to find her and Jack in bed together. Helga looked at Rose's face and nodded knowingly.

"I thought you two would eventually get together," she told Rose. "You didn't seem too happy with Cal, and you and Jack certainly seemed to enjoy spending time together. Your dancing at the wedding got a little risqué."

"I discouraged any kind of romantic relationship with Jack until I had decided to end things with Cal," Rose told them, trying to clarify the situation. She realized that she probably should have told Cal that things were over before she turned to Jack, but she hadn't really thought about it. Things had just happened, from the first kiss up on the hill, to the evening spent in Jack's bedroom, to the confrontation with Cal later on. She still wasn't sorry for what had happened, except for the incidents with Cal. She and Jack loved each other, and she felt that what had happened was an appropriate expression of that love.

"This would have to happen now, when he'd finally gotten away from Sunpeak," Tommy told Rose. "Did Jack tell you about his new job?"

Rose nodded. "He told me at dinner two nights ago. He had two weeks left at Sunpeak, and then he was going to work for an advertising agency in Southland, drawing pictures for ads."

"Yeah, the Messner Agency. He has a lot of skill, but he would get into trouble with the background checks. Technically, a person's criminal records from before the age of eighteen are supposed to be sealed, but employers would find them anyway. Apparently the owner of this agency had commissioned him to do some work in Los Angeles, and figured he could be trusted." Tommy shook his head. "He may not live to do this job, and even if he does, he's probably going to be in the hospital for a long time."

Rose thought about that. "If Jack wakes up, I'm going to go over there and explain what happened. If Jack's boss liked his work well enough to hire him after all this time, he may want to keep the position open. It's worth a try."

"Well, no one's working for Sunpeak now, that's for sure. The building was completely destroyed, and no one knows if they're going to rebuild. Their finances weren't the greatest, and some of the upper management was suspected of skimming money."

"It wouldn't surprise me if Cal was involved in that," Rose told him, shaking her head.

"Not many employees would be sorry to see the management get into trouble. If your fiancé goes to trial, they'll probably be watching with delight. And few people will be sorry to not work for Sunpeak. I was one of those downsized a few months back, and it was the happiest day of my life. It took a while to find another job, but Sunpeak really sucks."

"I know. I did an internship for Cal, and I hated even visiting the place. The employees all looked like they wanted to shoot someone."

"It probably would have improved the place."

"They glowered at me because I worked so close to Cal, even though I hated the internship."

"Are you looking for a job now?"

"Yeah, I have to. My mom is throwing me out because I broke the engagement with Cal, and I'll be leaving Elias University. I can't afford to go there without Cal paying my way. I'm living in the dorm right now, but I'll need a new place to live when the quarter ends." She hesitated. "That night, I told Jack that when the quarter ended, I was moving in with him. He had told me that his home was open to me. Whether he survives or not, I'll still need a place to live. Can I move in with you guys? I'll pay my share of the rent, utilities, and anything else."

"Of course you can," Helga told her. "Your share of the rent will be one hundred and fifty or two hundred dollars a month, depending upon how many people are living there." She glanced at Jack. "Your share of the utilities will be about forty dollars, and whoever has the task of cooking for that week buys the food. We take turns. Any other expenses are your own personal expenses."

Rose nodded. "Thanks. I'll try to find a job as soon as possible."

"Try temp agencies," Tommy told her. "That's what I did before I found my job. Every bit helps, and you can learn some interesting things, and get some interesting experience, while you're at it."

"Right. I'll try that."

The three of them left soon after, Tommy and Helga dropping Rose off at her dorm before returning to Masline. Rose took the elevator up to her floor, thinking the whole time. She had a place to live now, and some idea of where to find a job, but her heart was still heavy. Two of her closest friends had died, and Jack's chances of surviving grew slimmer every hour.


	11. Waiting 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eleven

Rose returned to the hospital early the next morning. Her ankle still ached, but had healed enough that she could walk on it a little, so she spent the morning sitting beside Jack, forcing herself to get up and walk when one of the doctors or nurses shooed her away.

Rose knew there was a good chance that Jack would not recover. He had been in a coma for three days, and his chances of even waking up were low. She accepted it, but she still dreaded the moment when it would be over. Knowing how likely it was that this was almost the end, Rose sat beside him, holding his hand for hours, talking quietly, hoping that if he did comprehend something she said, he would remember it and take it with him.

Looking at the mass of tubes and wires attached to Jack's body, and at the machinery that kept him alive, Rose wanted to cry, but it seemed like she had no tears left. She seemed to float in an emotionless void, unable either to laugh or cry. Anything she did feel was almost superficial, as though she was protecting herself from any further turmoil.

Rose was unable to tear herself away from Jack for more than a short time that day. Even as night fell, and she had been beside him for most of the last twelve hours, she still could not force herself to leave. Michelle had sighed in exasperation, instructing Rose to call her when she was ready to return to the dorm, as the telephones were once again working.

Tommy and Helga had arrived around six o'clock that evening, after spending the day putting the house back into a more livable shape, and then claiming Fabrizio's body and making funeral arrangements. Helga had been as pale and red-eyed as the day before, and had been able to sit beside Jack for only a short time before she had to leave. Already grieving, she had found the prospect of watching one of her friends—her late husband's best friend—slowly slip away to be more than she could handle. Helga and Tommy had left around seven to find some dinner, promising to bring back food for Rose.

Rose was sitting quietly beside Jack, holding his hand, half-dozing, when she heard someone whisper her name. Sitting up, she looked around. No one was there except Jack. Rising quietly, Rose peeked around the curtain that separated Jack from the other patients in the room. Both other patients were sleeping soundly, and there was no else in the room. Heart pounding, Rose sat back down beside Jack, hoping that he was the one who had spoken, that it had not been a figment of her imagination.

She shook his hand gently, hopefully, but he didn't stir. Then, about fifteen minutes later, he whispered her name again. This time, Rose was sure that he had spoken; she had seen his lips move. The sound was quiet, almost inaudible, but he was definitely speaking. She squeezed his hand and leaned forward, whispering to him to wake up.

Jack's eyelids fluttered somewhat, but he didn't open his eyes. She squeezed his hand, her heart in her throat, and was almost surprised when she felt his hand tighten around hers. She whispered to him again, more urgently.

"Jack, wake up. You can beat this; I know you can. You're almost there. You just need to open your eyes."

Jack squeezed her hand again, his other hand moving restlessly, tugging against the IV line. Rose restrained him, afraid that he would do himself harm if he pulled out the IV.

She sat quietly, waiting, as he moved his head slightly, his face taking on a pained look as he put pressure on his fractured skull. She moved his head back into a safer position. Taking both of his hands in hers, she squeezed them gently, willing him to wake up. Jack responded, his left hand squeezing hers. He whispered her name again, his eyelids fluttering, and then slowly opened his eyes.


	12. Awakening 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twelve

Jack felt as though he were floating through the darkness. Strange images imposed themselves, sometimes vague impressions, sometimes flashing brightly. Occasionally, he felt as though he were hearing someone speaking, but the words were indistinct, incomprehensible, and he tried not to pay too much attention.

He didn't know where he was, or how much time had passed, but eventually he came upon a bright light, glowing in the darkness, forming a tunnel of sorts. He saw people moving around the entrance to the tunnel and came closer, wondering who they were.

The light blinded him for a moment, but eventually he recognized his parents, standing at the front of the tunnel, blocking his way. He wanted to continue down the tunnel; it seemed to offer peace, and a freedom from pain, but they wouldn't let him enter. Joining hands, they stood before it, shaking their heads.

Jack had been confused at first; after all, his parents had been dead for nearly seven years, but he soon realized what was going on. He was dying, and they were trying to prevent that, knowing that he could recover, that he could live out his life.

He stopped in front of the tunnel, not knowing whether to insist that he be allowed to enter, or whether he should turn back and go back through the darkness to whatever life awaited him. The light was glowing, beckoning, but his parents' faces were stern, their voices insisting that he return to the land of the living. He wanted to stay with them, wanted to be a part of a family again, but they pushed him away, their faces compassionate but determined. He had been given a second chance, and they wanted him to survive and live out his full life.

He looked at his parents, at their healthy, glowing faces, so different from what they had looked like when they were dragged from the burnt rubble of their house in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, by firefighters and paramedics who had been too late to save them. It wasn't too late for him, they seemed to be saying, and he needed to go back before it was.

Jack looked at the expressions of love and pride on their faces as they assured him that they would see him one day, but not yet, and he wondered if they knew about the things he had done in his life, about the months he had spent in juvenile hall, about the people he had hurt by stealing from them. He opened his mouth to ask, and then realized that he already knew the answer. Their pride was in his ability to get past the bad things he had done, to accept that what he had done was wrong, to pay his debt to society, and to move on into a good, worthwhile life. He suddenly wished that they could have known Rose, certain that they would have loved her as much as he did, but a part of him suspected that they did know about her, as they knew about the other things in his life, and that they approved.

The voices in the background were louder now, more urgent, and he could have sworn that he heard Rose calling to him, begging him to come back. He looked back out into the darkness, and made up his mind. He would live. Rose's voice seemed to echo around him.

"_I love you, Jack...you can get through this...you're going to be all right...you just have to wake up...I love you_..." Over and over, the words echoed through the darkness, drawing him back. He looked back once, to where the tunnel of light had been, but it had disappeared, leaving only the voices echoing in the darkness, leading him back.

Strange sensations assaulted him—pain, heat and cold, more voices, Rose's prominent among them. He tried to speak her name, tried to find her, but he felt as though he couldn't speak. Vaguely, he heard her speaking to him, pleading with him to wake up. He spoke her name again, and this time he was certain he'd spoken. Jack felt hands holding his, restraining him, as he tried to move. Then the hands gentled, caressing his hands, squeezing them gently. He moved and felt a sharp pain in his head. A moment later, the hands had moved to his head, turning it to the side, easing the pain. The hands took his again, squeezing gently, the voice whispering urgently to him to wake up. He responded, one hand moving to wrap around those holding his, and slowly he opened his eyes to see Rose looking down at him.


	13. Awakening 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirteen

"Jack? Jack?" Rose looked at him anxiously. He was awake, but was he all right? She reached out and hit the call button for the nurse.

Jack looked at her in confusion, wondering where he was and what was going on. Slowly, he looked around, blinking his eyes to clear his vision, taking in the IV, the various pieces of life support equipment, the curtained off cubicle that he lay in. Turning his head slightly to get a better look, he stopped, shocked, as pain shot through his head. Quickly, he turned it back to the side.

"You have a fractured skull," Rose told him as he closed his eyes, clenching his teeth against the pain.

After a moment, he looked at her again. Fractured skull? Where was he? What happened? How long had he been asleep?

"Rose..." He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry; most of the fluids he'd taken in during the last three days had been through the IV.

Uncertain if she was doing the right thing, but wanting to help, Rose offered him a sip of water from the plastic bottle she carried with her. He choked slightly, but managed to swallow the water. Then he looked at her searchingly, still wondering what was happening.

"Where..." He coughed and tried again. "Where am I?"

"You're in the intensive care unit at Memorial Hospital in Southland. You were in shock from blood loss when they brought you in, and you have a broken leg and a fractured skull. We weren't sure you were going to make it."

"What happened? How...how long have I been here?" The window was visible from where he lay; he could see that it was dark outside, but he had no idea what time it was.

"Three days."

"Three days?" He couldn't have slept that long.

"You've been in a coma all this time. We were so worried...we didn't think you were going to wake up."

He vaguely recalled bits and pieces of the strange dream he had had and nodded slightly. "Who's we?"

"Me, the doctors and nurses, Tommy and Helga, even my roommates were concerned."

"Tommy and Helga?"

"They should be back soon...they went to get dinner, and they said they'd bring me some food." She hesitated. "Do you remember anything that was said while you were in the coma?"

He tried to remember. "I thought I heard you telling me to wake up." He looked at her in confusion. "How did I get here?"

"You and I were brought here by helicopter."

"No…how did I get hurt?"

Rose's heart sank. "You don't remember?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember what had happened, but nothing came to him. The last thing he remembered was walking down the broken streets with Rose after escaping from the Masline city jail. "No."

Rose took a deep breath, trying to think of how to tell him. "Do you remember the earthquake?"

"Yes. And you helped me escape from the jail before we could burn to death." He lowered his voice when Rose put a finger to her lips. "And then we were walking down the street…"

"Cal found us and confronted us. He was guessing that I'd let you out of jail. We argued…and then you and I started to walk away. He pulled a gun on us and shot you in the back as we ran from him."

Jack's brow furrowed in confusion. "But how did I hurt my head? And my leg?"

"Well, we hid from him between two buildings that the earthquake had damaged, but when we tried to leave, we couldn't move very fast because you'd been shot and you were bleeding heavily. There was an aftershock and the walls collapsed on us. That's how you broke your leg."

"And my skull?"

"No…I managed to free us from the light pole that was pinning us down, and we managed to climb out of the debris, but a piece of concrete hit you on the head…"

Jack's eyes were wide with confusion. "I don't remember anything."

"Maybe the head injury made you forget. You were unconscious for a while, but woke up while I was driving, trying to find help." Rose mentally crossed her fingers as she said this, hoping that Jack didn't remember the car she had "borrowed". In spite of his larcenous past, he might not approve of her stealing someone's car, even if her heart had been in the right place. "Then you lost consciousness again while they were putting you in the helicopter, and you didn't wake up again until just now." She took his hands, squeezing them gently. "Jack, I was so scared…we thought you weren't going to make it."

Jack looked at her, still trying to remember…but nothing came to him. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"It wasn't your fault! Cal's the one who started it…he's the one who shot you."

"But you're the one who had to take care of me after all that."

"I'd do it again if I had to. I love you—" Rose slapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to blurt that out. If he didn't remember anything surrounding his injuries, he wouldn't remember telling her he loved her—and she was afraid he had said it only because he thought he was dying.

He looked at her red face, a bit surprised. "Rose, I—"

"Don't worry about it, Jack. You told me you loved me right before you lost consciousness for the second time. You might have said it because you thought you were dying…"

"Maybe I did. I don't know. I don't remember. I meant it, though." He hesitated. "I was dreaming…or something…before I woke up…and I thought you said you loved me. It was like you were calling me back here…"

"I…I said it many times while you were in the coma. Maybe you heard me."

"Maybe I did. Maybe it was one of those—those…"

"Near-death experiences?"

"Yes. I thought I saw my parents…and a tunnel of light. But they wouldn't let me into the light."

Rose smiled. "I think they wanted you to live."

"Maybe." His eyes searched the small, curtained-off space, returning to Rose's face after a moment. "I think your voice might have helped."

"I talked to you a lot. I was terribly afraid that you would die." She leaned closer to him. "And Jack…yes, I do love you."

He squeezed her hand. "I love you, too."

Rose smiled, her eyes alight with happiness and hope. Maybe there wouldn't be any lasting effects from his head injury, other than the loss of memory. Maybe even that would get better after a while. Then she sobered again.

"Do you remember anything else I said to you?"

"No. Has something happened?"

She hesitated again. "A lot of things. But I'll tell you about them later."

The nurse finally came in. Looking around the curtain, she saw Jack looking back at her.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed, pleased to see that this comatose patient had regained consciousness. Gesturing for Rose to move out of the way, she came closer.

Rose took her crutches and moved aside. She had done all the walking on her sore ankle that she was able to do for the day. Jack noticed.

"What happened?" he asked, looking at her crutches.

"I sprained my ankle escaping from those collapsed buildings. It still hurts." She winced slightly as one crutch put pressure on her injured arm.

Jack noticed. Looking at the bandage, he asked, "What happened to your arm?"

"It was cut by the concrete that hit you. It's stitched up now, though. It'll be okay."

"I guess we'll both be on crutches for a while."

"You are not going anywhere for a while," the nurse told him. "You just came out of a coma. You're going to lay right here and let your body heal until the doctor says it's okay for you to move."

Jack opened his mouth to speak again, but she hushed him, taking his pulse. When she had finished that, she measured his blood pressure, and then took a blood sample. Jack looked with dismay at the number of needle marks on his fingers and arms.

"It's a wonder I have any blood left," he joked weakly, suddenly very tired. He wished that the nurse, and even Rose, would leave so that he could sleep.

"You needed nine units of blood when you were brought here," the nurse told him.

"Nine?" That woke him up a little.

"You almost died." She finished taking the blood sample and hurried away. "The doctor should be with you shortly," she told Jack.

Rose sat down beside him again. "I'm so glad you're awake," she told him, taking his hand again.

Jack wanted to go back to sleep. "Thanks for...staying with me." He yawned drowsily.

"Jack, don't fall asleep. At least wait until the doctor gets here and checks you over."

He tried to stay awake, but he was half-dozing by the time the doctor walked in.

"So, you're awake," the doctor said, leaning over him.

Startled, Jack jumped awake. "Sort of," he mumbled, wishing everyone would leave.

"Out of the coma, anyway." The doctor checked his eyes and the fracture in his skull. "I have a few questions for you."

"Okay…"

"How many fingers am I holding up?" The doctor held up two fingers and a thumb.

"Three, two fingers and one thumb." Jack looked irritated at the question.

"Right. Who's the president of the United States?"

"Dummya."

Rose laughed. She couldn't help it. Jack always held a rather low opinion of elected officials, and he wasn't able to vote himself, being an ex-felon.

The doctor looked at her.

"That's what he always calls the president," she explained, feeling better than she had in a long time. Jack's personality didn't seem to have changed as a result of his head injury.

"Fine," Jack mumbled sleepily. "George W. Bush."

"And who is this?" The doctor indicated Rose.

"Rose DeWitt-Bukater, ex-fiancée of Caledon Hockley, one of the biggest assholes alive."

"There's no need for that kind of language." The doctor tried to look stern, but was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He gestured to Rose to leave, indicating that he needed to examine Jack.

Rose hurried out into the hall, where Tommy and Helga were just stepping out of the elevator. They noticed her standing in the hallway, leaning tiredly against a wall, and came hurrying over.

"What's going on? Did something happen to Jack?" Tommy was concerned as soon as he saw that Rose had given up her vigil.

"He woke up." Rose smiled, still tired from the emotional strain of the last three days, but happy that Jack was awake.

"How is he doing?" Helga was more familiar than Tommy with the possible aftereffects of a coma.

"He seems to be okay. The doctor asked him several questions, and he answered them okay. He even joked a little. He seems really tired, though."

"That often happens when a person has been badly injured," Helga told her. "They need rest so that they can heal."

"But he's been resting for three days!"

"Not quite the same thing." Helga handed her a McDonald's bag. Her face was still strained, but she seemed a little more peaceful now, knowing that at least Jack was awake. "A coma isn't exactly normal sleep."

Rose opened the bag and dug into her food, hungry for the first time since the earthquake. "I hope he'll be okay."

"So do we," Tommy assured her.

The doctor came out into the hall a few minutes later. Seeing the group waiting outside the room, he came over to them.

"Your friend seems to be on the road to recovery," he told them. "He's still weak, and it'll be a few days before he can leave intensive care, but aside from some reported memory loss, there don't seem to be any complications. If all goes well, he should be out of intensive care by the end of the week."

"When can he leave the hospital?" Rose wanted to know.

"Probably not for several weeks yet. He _is_ severely injured, and releasing him too soon might be harmful. It's too soon yet to tell for sure whether there will be any complications, so we're keeping him here for a while."

"How much is this going to cost?" Tommy knew that Jack's income was very low.

"He has MediCal, so that will pay for most of it."

"MediCal?" Tommy was surprised. Jack had never told him that.

"That's what his chart indicates. He's only twenty-one, so he's still qualified."

"We'll have to get him out of here before June nineteenth, then," Helga said. "He'll be twenty-two that day."

"He'll be released when he's ready to be released," the doctor told them, "even if the hospital winds up losing some money. I'll make sure of that."

"Can we see him now?" Rose wanted to see him once more before she left for the night.

"Just for a few minutes. He needs to rest, and you've been here all day."

"Okay." Rose acknowledged the wisdom of the doctor's words, but she still wanted to say good night.

Tommy and Helga followed her into the room. Jack was lying down, his injured head on a soft pillow that didn't put so much pressure on it, dozing. He woke up when they came in.

"Jack, it's good to see you awake." Tommy looked at him, frowning as he noticed that the tubes and wires were still there.

"Hey." Jack greeted him sleepily, struggling to stay awake. Helga noticed, and gave the others a look that told them to hurry and say what they needed to say. Jack needed to rest.

"The doctor says you should recover," Helga told him.

"Yeah, he told me that." Jack yawned.

"We'll be back to see you tomorrow," Rose said, leaning down to kiss him gently. "I'm so glad you're awake."

"Me, too." Jack put his free arm around her. Rose hesitated a moment, then, moving gingerly around the tubes and wires, hugged him back.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he whispered back. "When will you be back?"

"Around eleven tomorrow," she told him, standing up. Tommy and Helga had been watching the tender scene, trying not to stare at them.

"Okay." He nodded slightly, his eyes closing. "Good night, everybody."

Rose held his hand a moment longer, listening as his breathing grew deep and even as he finally fell into a normal, healing sleep.


	14. Awakening 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fourteen

Rose was overjoyed that Jack was awake. She told her roommates, bouncing up and down with delight on her good foot—and inadvertently discovering a structural weakness in the floor. With a cracking sound, a piece of the floor collapsed, leaving only the sagging carpet covering the broken spot. Someone yelled from downstairs as the broken piece of floor caved in on their room.

Fortunately, no one was hurt. A maintenance worker inspected the broken spot and declared the rest of the floor sound. A piece of board was placed over the broken spot, and the three students were permitted to stay in their room, although Michelle said that she didn't know how many more of Rose's mood swings they could take.

Tommy and Helga picked Rose up at her dorm the following morning around 10:30 and drove to the hospital, trying to decide how to break the news of Fabrizio's and Trudy's deaths to Jack. Rose thought that Jack would not be unhappy to learn that Cal had been arrested, and was, according to the newspaper, being charged with a variety of crimes, including attempted murder and embezzlement, and suggested that they give him the good news first.

They were still debating the issue when they reached the hospital. Helga had fallen silent, not wanting to discuss it anymore, but Rose and Tommy continued to debate it all the way up to Jack's floor. They quieted, however, as they went into his room.

Jack was sitting propped up in bed, a breakfast tray in his lap. He was poking half-heartedly at some partly melted red Jell-O. Two small cans of soda, one opened, also sat on the tray.

He looked up as they came in. "Hi," he greeted them, abandoning his efforts to eat the unappetizing stuff. Cautiously, he took a sip of soda as they sat down around him.

"Mmm, hospital food," Rose commented, looking at the tray, trying to avoid thinking about what they had to tell him.

"It's awful," Jack told her, taking a spoonful of the Jell-O and staring at it. "The least they could do is let this stuff jell all the way. I'm not really hungry anyway."

"That's because the stuff they're pumping into you from the IV keeps your blood sugar at a level that doesn't allow normal hunger pangs. But you still need to eat," Helga told him. "You haven't had anything in your stomach since Sunday night, according to Rose. You need to get your stomach accustomed to food again."

"I had a sip of water last night," he protested, unwilling to sample the watery red stuff.

"Good. Now eat your breakfast—or lunch...whatever they're calling it."

"I don't even like Jell-O. I've never liked it."

"Did you tell the nurse that?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"Eat it anyway." He grimaced as the stuff slid off the spoon and landed with a splat back in the dish.

"Well, then, maybe you should eat it."

Rose was looking longingly at the dish. She liked red Jell-O, even if it was only half-jelled. Jack noticed her look.

"Here, you eat it," he told her, offering her the dish.

"Uh-uh. That's your breakfast, and Helga is right. You need to eat."

"This stuff is disgusting, and if it doesn't get eaten, that nurse will come down on me like...like a crow on road kill."

Rose giggled at the picture. She had had several run-ins with this particular nurse in the past couple of days. The woman was brusque, scowling, and had frequently sent her scurrying from the room.

"All right," she agreed. "I'll eat it. But you'd better drink that soda. You need something in your stomach."

"Fine," he agreed, handing her the dish. Trying to show that he was trying to eat something, he took a quick gulp of the soda, then realized that wasn't such a good idea after so many days without eating. He choked, turning slightly pale, and gagged. Clamping his hand over his mouth, he took several deep breaths, willing the liquid to stay down. The others turned away, not wanting to watch this. But after a moment, his stomach decided to accept the soda and calmed down. He waited a few minutes, then took another sip, with better results this time.

"Maybe you should take that slow." Helga pointed to the can of soda. "You haven't had much in your stomach in a long time, and it's bound to take a while for you to get used to eating again."

Rose had just finished off the Jell-O when the nurse came in. Quickly, she set the empty dish on the tray, trying to look innocent.

The nurse didn't believe for a minute that Jack had eaten the Jell-O. Looking at Rose's red-stained mouth, she lectured both of them on the importance of Jack's getting enough to eat. Grumbling irritably to herself, she set the cans of soda on the bedside table, took the tray, and left. Helga watched her with dismay.

"What's wrong?" Tommy asked her.

"She's going to be my new supervisor," Helga complained. "They had a nursing shortage here before the earthquake, and several of the nurses who were off shift died. They needed new ones right away, so when I asked about a job a couple of days ago and told them I had been working for Southland General, they immediately looked up my records and hired me on the spot. I didn't even need to bring my résumé. They pulled it off the Internet. I start on Sunday."

Rose filed that bit of information away for future reference; the Internet could be useful in a job search.

"I'd rather have you around than her," Jack told her.

"You'll probably be out of this unit by then. You're already looking better," Helga commented. "But even if you aren't, you still have to eat what you're given."

"How long have you been awake?" Tommy asked Jack.

"Since about ten o'clock," Jack replied. "Although they also woke me up at three o'clock this morning for another blood test."

"They like to do that," Rose agreed, remembering when she had been hospitalized with the concussion.

"You'd think they'd taken enough blood out of me already," he commented, looking at the needle marks on his fingers and arms. He hadn't seen so many needle marks on a person since he'd been in juvenile hall with a couple of heroin addicts.

"They need to keep testing you to make sure you're okay." Helga had heard that particular complaint dozens of times.

"Well, after they went to all the trouble to pump all that blood into me, it seems like a waste to keep extracting it."

"Trust me, most phlebotomists don't enjoy it either," Helga assured him. "Patients tend to complain mightily about being stuck with needles."

"What are phlebotomists?"

"The people who take blood samples. Sometimes they're also referred to as vampires."

"Oh." He shakily picked up a soda can, then set it back down, nearly dropping it before Rose steadied it on the table. "They have to do everything for me," he complained. "Even things like bathing and shaving. I tried, but..."

"You'll get better," Rose told him. "Remember, you came out of a coma less than fifteen hours ago. It's only natural that you're still shaky."

"I couldn't even sit up by myself this morning. They had to arrange the bed so that I was propped up. And they won't even consider letting me get up."

"I wonder why," Tommy said sarcastically. "Your leg is in traction, you're hooked up to half a dozen machines with tubes and wires everywhere, you can't even sit up on your own..."

Jack gave him a quelling look, reaching for the open soda can again. Taking a sip, he looked at the group assembled around him. Rose was biting her lip worriedly, as though trying to decide something. Tommy and Helga both looked uncomfortable.

"What's going on?" he asked, suddenly remembering Rose's comment the night before about a lot of things having happened.

"Jack..." Rose looked at him apprehensively, suddenly wondering whether it was a good idea to tell him about the deaths of their friends now. He wasn't very strong yet, and she was afraid that the news might be too much for him. She didn't want him to have a relapse.

Tommy took a deep breath. "Jack, we have some good news...and some bad news."

"What is it?" He was suddenly apprehensive.

Rose took over. "The good news is, Cal has been arrested. He's being charged with attempting to murder you, and with embezzling money from Sun Titan Industries. They haven't set a trial date yet, but we will probably need to testify, especially you, since he tried to kill you."

"What's the bad news?"

Rose hesitated, looking at Tommy and Helga, trying to decide how to say what needed to be said. Helga helped her out. It was only right that she tell Jack about Fabrizio's death. After all, she was his widow.

"Jack..." Helga began. "A lot of people died in the earthquake."

Jack nodded. He had already seen one of those who had died—the guard in the jail. But he had a feeling that that wasn't what Helga was trying to tell him.

"There was a lot of damage, and a lot of buildings were destroyed...including the Sunpeak building. Fabrizio was working there...when the earthquake struck."

Jack suddenly knew what she was trying to say. "Fabrizio. Is he...?"

"Yes." Helga's eyes overflowed. "They found his body late Monday afternoon. There were only six survivors from the building collapse, and they didn't even start looking for them until late Monday morning. By that time, it was too late for most people." She shook her head, remembering. She and Tommy had been waiting outside the rubble that afternoon, hoping against hope that the news would be good. But when she had seen the rescue workers carrying Fabrizio's limp, lifeless body from the rubble, and one of his part-time co-workers had stopped to express her regrets, Helga had broken down, bursting into tears and collapsing on the ground, sobbing in grief. No one had been shocked; she was only one mourner among many. She vaguely remembered Tommy helping her to her feet, leading her back in the direction of his car. The next few hours had passed in a blur for her, until the following afternoon when she and Tommy had gone looking for Jack and Rose, giving her a purpose and a focus.

Jack was staring at her, stunned. Fabrizio, dead? It wasn't possible. He and Fabrizio had been friends for the past two years, since Fabrizio had first slipped across the border in Arizona, and had wound up working in the same crop field as Jack. They had been friends from the start, first exchanging tentative comments in a broken combination of English and Spanish; then, as each one's grasp of the other's language grew, passing the long hours in the fields talking, often using the languages interchangeably. They had traveled from work site to work site together, getting in and out of more scrapes than either one could count, including arguments with the bosses over pay, confrontations with border patrol agents, long hours spent working in the heat, or the cold, or other myriad hazards facing migrant workers. When they had both decide that they had had enough of farm work, they had headed for Los Angeles, where Jack had turned a blind eye to Fabrizio's fake green card and documentation, professing complete ignorance of his immigration status. Fabrizio, for his part, had helped to find customers for Jack's artwork and had contacted a cousin living in a rundown part of the city, who had allowed them to stay with him for a short time, until they were able to find another place to stay. Fabrizio had been tolerant when Jack had invited his new, often down-on-her-luck girlfriend, Beatriz, to stay with them, and had mediated the pair's frequent arguments. Jack had encouraged Fabrizio's interest in Helga, who had been a nursing student at UCLA at the time, and, after Fabrizio and Helga had become engaged, and Jack and Beatriz had finally split up for good, they had followed Helga to Masline, where they had moved in with her and her cousin, Tommy, and both Jack and Fabrizio had taken jobs with Sunpeak and begun attending college.

It didn't seem possible that Fabrizio could be dead. He had been doing so well, working on his citizenship, settling down with Helga, and even earning enough money to send some to his mother and siblings in Mexico. But Jack knew, looking at Helga's grief-stricken face, that it was true. This wasn't some nasty prank created to torment him. His best friend really was dead.

"My God..." he whispered, still stunned.

Rose hesitated, wishing that she didn't have to tell him about Trudy, but knowing that it was best to tell him everything now, rather than waiting and prolonging the shock.

"Jack...there's more," she told him gently, wishing she were anywhere else. Although Jack had not been as close to Trudy as he had been to Fabrizio, they had still been part of a close circle of friends, and the news was bound to be painful.

"What is it?" he asked, steeling himself for whatever Rose had to say.

"Trudy...was also killed in the earthquake. She was visiting with Sophie when it struck, and they were about to leave. Trudy was sitting in the passenger seat of Sophie's convertible, and a pine tree fell on the car, killing her instantly, or so I'm told." Rose blinked her eyes rapidly, trying not to cry. She had been numb for several days, but now the emotions were rushing back, overwhelming her. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at him, gauging his response.

He looked a bit overwhelmed. Suddenly worried, Rose reached for his hand, concerned that the news might be too much for him.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Rose...I'm sorry. I know she was your best friend. And, Helga," he looked over at Helga, "about Fabrizio..."

"I know, Jack," she whispered. "He was my husband...but he was also your best friend. We're all going to miss him." She paused, her throat working. "We're all going to miss both of them."

"Yeah," Jack responded. "Yeah, we will." His voice was a bit shaky.

Helga wisely decided that it was time to leave. Signaling discreetly to Tommy and Rose, she got up and left the room, Tommy following her. Rose lingered a moment.

"Jack..." She didn't know what to say. She was as overwhelmed by the deaths of their friends as he was. She leaned forward to embrace him, moving carefully around the wires and tubes. "Everyone else is okay," she whispered. "Sophie, Tommy, Helga, me...even you're going to be all right. And Cal is in jail; he can't bother us, at least for a while."

Jack put his arms around her, ignoring the IV in his right arm. He, too, didn't know quite what to say.

"Everything's going to be all right, Rose. We'll get through this." His voice was a bit choked.

Rose nodded, knowing that it was time to leave. "I'll see you this afternoon, Jack. Get some rest. I love you."

She hurried away before he could respond, leaving him to his thoughts.


	15. Awakening 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifteen

True to her word, Rose went to visit Jack's boss early that afternoon. Tommy and Helga dropped her off, but had to return to Masline shortly after that. Rose assured them that it was no problem, since the agency was only three blocks from Elias University and she thought that she could easily walk back, even with her crutches. Helga was a bit skeptical, so Rose finally reassured her that if she needed a ride, she would call her roommates.

After Tommy and Helga left, Rose made her way into the office. The Messner Agency was located in the middle of a shopping center, not far from a supermarket and a drugstore. One of the front windows was broken and had been boarded up and covered with a beautifully painted poster advertising the agency. Inside, a row of chairs formed a barricade around a dangerously broken section of wall and ceiling. Looking around, Rose made her way to the receptionist's desk.

The receptionist wasn't happy to see her. Engrossed in a romance novel, she barely looked up when Rose approached her. After Rose had said "Excuse me" several times, the receptionist finally looked up, glaring at Rose as though she was imposing on her.

"What?" She set her book aside in annoyance. Things had been slow since the earthquake, and she had been taking advantage of the lack of work.

"Can I please speak to the manager?"

"You mean the owner?"

"Whichever. I need to speak to one of them."

"There's just an owner here, and some employees. We don't have a separate manager."

"Fine." Rose sighed. "Let me speak to the owner, then."

"Do you have an appointment with him?"

"No. I'm here on behalf of one of his employees—"

"We're not hiring right now."

"I'm not looking for a job. I want to talk to him about someone who already works here."

"But we're not hiring." The receptionist gave Rose a blank look.

Rose sighed in irritation, wondering if this woman was really that dumb, or if she was trying to get her to leave. "The person I want to talk to the owner about already works here. He's already been hired." She spoke slowly, trying to get her point across.

"I'll call Mr. Messner."

"The owner's name is Mr. Messner?"

"Yes, James Messner. That's why it's called the Messner Agency." She gave Rose a look that spoke volumes about her opinion of Rose's intelligence. Hitting a button on the phone, she waited a moment, then spoke to the person on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Messner, someone wants to see you about a job." Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her message hadn't gotten through at all. "Yes, I told her we aren't hiring, but she says she wants the job of someone who's already working here."

Exasperated, Rose grabbed the phone from the shocked receptionist and spoke to Mr. Messner herself. "Mr. Messner? I'm Rose DeWitt-Bukater. I'm here on behalf of one of your employees, Jack Dawson, who was supposed to start work a week from Monday. No, I don't want his job. I don't have that kind of artistic skill. First cubicle on the left? Thank you."

Rose hung up, ignoring the receptionist's glare. "Thank you. Now I have an appointment." She swept past her as gracefully as possible, heading for James Messner's work area.

"Mr. Messner?" She looked through the entranceway.

"Miss DeWitt-Bukater. Come in."

He was more formal than most of the people Rose was used to. Clearing a pile of papers from the top of his desk, he gestured to a chair.

Rose sat down, looking around the small space. Works-in-progress and advertising papers and posters covered the walls. Rose saw one hand-drawn picture with Jack's initials in the corner.

"What can I do for you?" Messner asked, smiling politely.

James Messner was a tall, slender African-American man in his late fifties. His graying hair was neatly clipped, and he sat with a straight but relaxed posture. His fingers were stained with red and black ink, and his suit jacket was tossed carelessly over the back of his chair.

"I'm here about Jack Dawson, who was supposed to start work a week from next Monday."

"You said that. Is there a problem?" He rubbed his temples. "He's not in trouble again, is he?"

"You mean…um…like when he was a teenager?"

He nodded.

"You knew about that?" Rose wasn't surprised, but she did wonder how is was that employers kept coming up with supposedly sealed records.

"It's amazing what you can find with a background check. I decided to give him a chance because he hasn't been in any trouble in almost four years."

"Well..." Rose hesitated, trying to decide whether to tell Messner about Jack's getting arrested the previous Sunday night, then decided that he'd eventually find out anyway, and she might be able to convince him that Jack hadn't actually done anything.

"He did get arrested on Sunday night, shortly before the earthquake, but it was all a misunderstanding. My ex-fiancé framed him for stealing my engagement ring."

"Framed him, huh?" Messner raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes. I saw Cal—that's my ex-fiancé—slip the ring into Jack's pocket," she lied, hoping she could keep her story straight. "Then Jack and Cal got into a fight, and the cops showed up. Cal told them that Jack had stolen the ring, and Jack offered to let them check his pockets. Of course, they found it, and Jack was arrested."

"What were they fighting about, and why didn't you say something when the ring was found?"

"Uh...I think they were fighting over me—Cal made a nasty remark about me—and the reason I didn't say anything when the ring was found was because I was too shocked to speak up."

"So Mr. Dawson is in jail."

"No, actually, he's in Memorial Hospital. He was released after the earthquake struck, probably because the jail was in a brick building and there was a fire in that section of town. We met up again, and as we were heading for a safer part of town, Cal showed up and pulled a gun on us. We ran, and Cal shot Jack. We hid from him between two buildings, which collapsed on us. While we were climbing out of the rubble, a piece of concrete hit Jack on the head, giving him a skull fracture. He just came out of a coma last night."

"Is he in the secure ward of the hospital?"

"No, he's in intensive care. Trust me, he's not going anywhere. He has a broken leg, he's still weak, and he can't even sit up by himself. He's not an escape risk. But I think that Cal is going to drop the charges."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Cal is in jail on suspicion of attempted murder and embezzlement. Have you heard of Sun Titan Industries?"

"Of course. We've done advertising for them."

"Cal was the CEO."

"Caledon Hockley?" He raised an eyebrow, looking at her somewhat disbelievingly. "That's hard to believe." He shook his head. "Except the embezzlement part."

"That doesn't surprise me either. But as to the rest—the attempted murder—I know he's guilty. There's nothing like having someone aiming a gun at you to convince you that they're up to no good."

"How do I know you were engaged to Mr. Hockley? How do I know you've even met?"

"Our engagement was announced in the newspaper last June, and I worked part-time as a secretary for him for a while. Sun Titan Industries can confirm it."

He steepled his fingers, still skeptical, but willing to give her benefit of the doubt. He could always check her story later. "But what makes you so certain he'll drop the charges against Mr. Dawson? He may well try to convince the jury that he was justified in shooting a potentially dangerous criminal."

"He'll drop the charges. There's enough evidence of what he did that if he presses charges, he may wind up in more trouble than he's already in."

Rose wasn't so sure that her statement was true, but she did know Cal well enough to know that he wasn't stupid. Quick-tempered and violent, yes; stupid, no. She had already learned that he was in Southwest County Jail in Murrieta, the closest correctional facility that was still fully intact, and she intended to go up to visit him before the weekend was over. Cal was already in enough trouble for attempted murder and embezzlement; she didn't think that he would be willing to risk a greater chance of conviction or a longer prison sentence by allowing his abuse of her to be known. She would exchange her silence for Jack's freedom.

Rose looked up at Messner. "I was wondering if you could possibly hold the job open for him. The doctor said he should be okay—there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage—but he'll probably be in the hospital for a few weeks. And there's no way he can go back to his old job working at Sunpeak—the building collapsed, and there's no telling whether they'll rebuild or not. He hated that place anyway."

"Yes, I'm familiar with Sunpeak. Long hours, substandard pay, equipment older than most of the employees—their reputation precedes them. One of the people who works here right now was a former employee, and he has said that even the employment agencies speak poorly of that company. I doubt there's many people in the area who would work for them unless they were desperate for a job, or masochistic. The only people they seem to have any stability with are those who have few skills and can't find jobs elsewhere, those with difficulty finding other jobs—like Mr. Dawson—and college students, who want to pay for their education and avoid too many extra loans."

Rose laughed. "When I interned as a secretary for Cal, I had to accompany him there a few times, and that place is truly awful. No one really wanted to stay there. I was glad to end my internship—it meant I didn't have to visit there anymore."

Messner glanced at his watch. "It's about one o'clock, and that's when I usually take my lunch. I will consider your request to keep the job open. I've seen few artists as skilled as Mr. Dawson, and he's talented both in handwork and computer art. If he recovers enough to work, and if he doesn't wind up in prison, the job's his."

"Thank you, Mr. Messner. I'll tell him what you said."

"Is he allowed to have visitors?"

Rose shrugged. "They've allowed me in, as well as his roommates. I don't know if that's how they usually do things or not, but with everything in chaos since the earthquake, a lot of rules have been pushed aside."

"I'd like to tell him myself that the job is still there for him and see how he's doing." He got to his feet and moved around the desk, heading for the entryway of the cubicle. Rose followed him.

"Where are you parked?" he asked her, as they stepped outside the office. The receptionist had quickly hidden her book when her boss had walked by.

"Nowhere. My car got destroyed in the earthquake. I'm just three blocks from my dorm, so I can walk."

"How would you like to come with me to Memorial Hospital? You seem to be spending a great deal of time worrying about Mr. Dawson, so I'd imagine you'd probably like to see him now."

Rose thought quickly. She had promised Jack that she would be back to see him in the afternoon, although she'd been thinking of returning later. Still, this way she wouldn't have to pester Michelle for a ride.

"I can drop you off back at your dorm later. Elias University, right?"

"Right." Rose made up her mind. She'd go with him to visit Jack now, even though she probably wouldn't be able to visit as long as she would have liked. Jack seemed to need rest now more than anything anyway, so it was probably better if she didn't hang around too long.

"Okay. Let's go see him," she said, and followed Messner to his car.


	16. Awakening 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixteen

Jack was dozing when Rose and Mr. Messner arrived, but he woke up when they came into the room. Rose looked at him closely, trying to see how he was doing. His eyes were a bit red, but he seemed to be doing all right, despite the news he had received that morning.

He was surprised that his boss had come to visit, and tried to sit up to greet him. He wasn't quite strong enough, though, and after a moment he gave up, lying back and simply lifting a hand in greeting.

"Mr. Messner."

"Hello, Mr. Dawson. Your friend here came to speak to me on your behalf. She says you just came out of a coma last night."

"Yeah, something like that."

"I wanted to let you know that your job will be there for you when you get out of the hospital, so long as you recover enough to work, and as long as you don't wind up in prison."

"Thanks." Jack was grateful to hear that his job would be there for him, although he hadn't really been thinking about it before. He'd had too many other things on his mind to worry about work. Then Messner's last words got through to him. "Prison?"

"I'm told you got arrested on Sunday night."

"Yeah, that's right, I did. I was framed, though. I've stayed out of trouble all these years." He assumed, correctly, that Messner knew about his time in juvenile hall, but he also hadn't been thinking about the legal trouble he was in. If Cal persisted in pressing charges against him for the theft of the ring, he could be in serious trouble, especially with his record. "How did you find out?"

"She told me."

Jack shot Rose a "thanks a lot" look. He would have preferred that the incident be quietly forgotten, although he realized that it wasn't likely. Cal held a grudge against him, and since he had failed in his attempt to kill him, he was very likely to press charges. Jack dreaded the thought of being locked up again.

"She also told me that your accuser will probably drop the charges."

He was surprised at that, wondering how Rose could be so sure. Then, thinking back to what Rose had told him Cal had done her, he realized what she was going to do.

"Rose, no," he told her. "He's in jail now. You shouldn't let him get away with what he did."

Rose knew exactly what he was talking about. "There's some things I don't want the world to know about. It's no harm."

Messner watched them curiously, wondering what they were talking about; wondering, too, at the pained expression that crossed Rose's face when she said "some things."

Jack sighed. He felt strongly that Rose should press charges against Cal for beating and raping her, but it was her decision. He wouldn't reveal what she had told him a few nights earlier, unless she wanted him to. And Rose found it so painful to talk about it herself that he seriously doubted she would want him talking about it. Besides, the charges already in place against Cal—attempted murder and embezzlement—might be enough to land him in prison for a long time. Still, he didn't like the idea of Rose exchanging her silence for his freedom, and wished that he could stop her. But Rose was determined to see justice done for him, even at the cost of justice for herself.

"All right," he finally told her, knowing that she would do what she felt was best.

"How long do the doctors think you'll be here, Mr. Dawson?" Messner spoke, breaking the tension. Jack glanced back at him.

"They think I'll be out of the ICU in a few days, but I'll probably be in the hospital for several weeks. My injuries are...pretty serious."

"So she said." Messner indicated Rose. "Well, I'm holding the job open for you. There's been a slowdown since the earthquake, so we aren't hurting without your help. As soon as you're ready, just come in and I'll put you to work."

"Thanks. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Just don't push yourself too hard. If need be, you can work part time the first couple of weeks after you start, so that you can adjust."

Jack nodded, wincing a little as the motion jarred his head. "I'll be there as soon as they let me out of here."

"If they want you to rest at home for a while first, you do that. You don't need to overexert yourself. Three days in a coma is nothing to mess with, and I want you fully recovered and able to work. Just take as long as you need. I've worked with you before, so I doubt you'll abuse the privilege." He stood. "Now, get some rest and recover." He gestured to Rose. "Are you coming, Miss DeWitt-Bukater?"

"I'll be there in a minute."

Messner nodded and left the room. Rose squeezed Jack's hand.

"How are you holding up?"

"I think I'm doing okay. I don't think I'll relapse or anything."

"I was worried, after what we told you this morning. Sometimes a shock like that can be too much for a person."

He was silent for a moment, thinking. "You're right, it was a shock." He paused, his jaw working. "I'm going to miss them, especially Fabrizio. We went through so much together..."

"I know. I'm going to miss them, too. Trudy and I had been best friends since fourth grade. When Mom told me what had happened, I could hardly believe it."

"All of this feels a little unreal, but it really happened."

"I know. Who would have thought that everything could go to pieces like this?"

"It happens that way sometimes."

Rose nodded, remembering what Jack had told her about his parents' deaths. This wasn't the first time his world had come to pieces.

"Fabrizio's funeral is tomorrow, down in Mexico. Helga and Tommy managed to have his body shipped back to his family, and we're all going down there for the funeral. Sophie is coming, too."

"I wish I could be there, too. I'd like to say good-bye."

"I know you would. But for now you need to concentrate upon getting better. Maybe you can go down there later, after you're better."

"Maybe." He looked at her. "When is Trudy's funeral?"

"Saturday morning, in Masline. I talked to Sophie on the phone this morning, and she said that it's basically just going to be a memorial service. Trudy's parents decided to have her cremated, like a lot of the people who died. I read that about two thousand people died just in Masline. There's going to be a memorial service for everyone who died on Sunday morning. They say it's supposed to be on television, so maybe we can watch it here. Sometimes it helps, I guess."

"Yeah. Maybe." Jack looked away from her, blinking his eyes rapidly, and Rose realized that she had upset him. He wasn't about to break down in front of her, though. There were some emotions he was reluctant to show in front of anyone, even her.

"I'd better get going," she told him. "I don't want Mr. Messner to leave me behind. He's my ride back to the dorm."

"Okay. I'll see you later." His voice sounded a little choked up.

Rose gave him a quick kiss. "I love you, Jack. Remember, it's okay to be sad. A lot of people feel that way right now."

"I know." He paused, struggling to keep his composure. "I love you too, Rose. I'll see you later."

Rose gave his hand one last squeeze, then got up and quietly left the room. She wished that Jack would open up to her, but he had a great deal of pride, and he wasn't going to break down and cry in front of her, even though she would have understood. She had lost friends, too, but they each had their own way of dealing with things, and each would eventually find their own closure.


	17. A Time to Mourn 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventeen

_Friday, May 9, 2003_

Early the following morning, Tommy, Helga, and Sophie arrived to pick up Rose. Fabrizio's funeral was not being held until 3:30, but with so many roads having been destroyed, there was no telling how long it would take to get to the tiny village that Fabrizio's family lived in, a small farming town some forty miles south of the border and thirty-five miles inland.

Rose slowly made her way down from her dorm room, dreading the funeral. Ever since both her father and her maternal grandfather had died within a few weeks of each other, she had hated funerals. But she would not miss the chance to say good-bye to a friend.

Sophie ran up and gave Rose a hug as soon as she reached the lobby. Rose hugged her back, almost crying. She could only imagine what Sophie had felt, hurrying back to her car to find that Trudy had been crushed by the tree. Then the added blow of losing another close friend...Rose shuddered inwardly, thanking God that it hadn't been worse. At least the four of them were healthy, and Jack would be all right, in time.

The group slowly made its way out to the parking lot. Although both Tommy and Helga had cars that were still intact, they had decided to take Tommy's old, battered car down to Mexico. It was safer that way, especially since they couldn't do what some American visitors did, leaving the car on the American side of the border and walking down into Mexico. That worked well for visitors to Tijuana and other border communities, but forty miles was much too far to walk.

They traveled in silence for a while, sometimes driving along the freeway, other times taking detours onto highways and back roads where the earthquake damage was worst. Helga stared out the window in silence, half-watching the scenery go by. She dreaded this afternoon more than any of them, because it was as though the funeral would make it real. A part of her had been kept away, hiding from the reality that her husband, to whom she had been married only two weeks, was dead. She wouldn't have many opportunities to visit his grave, either, although she did not begrudge his family the chance to have him buried in Mexico, near to other members of his family.

Tommy concentrated upon the road, his face grim. He had been opposed, at first, to his cousin marrying an illegal immigrant, worrying that Fabrizio only wanted to marry her to gain legal status. His fears had proven unfounded, though. Fabrizio had been determined to gain his citizenship, with or without Helga, and his reasons for marrying her had more to do with love than with any economic or legal concerns.

Rose and Sophie sat in the back seat, Rose's crutches between them. Although neither of them had known Fabrizio as long, or as well, as Helga and Tommy, they had still been friends, and Fabrizio's sudden death was a shock. Rose blamed Titan Construction for the collapse of the Sunpeak building, with their willingness to bribe building inspectors rather than do a good job of constructing buildings in the first place. The Sunpeak building had been particularly bad. Rose had walked down the hall on the second floor several times while running errands for Cal, and the poorly constructed floor had shaken and creaked even under her meager weight. There had been an extremely obese manager working there, and his weight had caused the floor to shake violently and occasionally even crack, although the floor should have been strong enough to hold the weight of someone who weighed four hundred pounds. It was a simply a very poor case of construction.

Sophie had known Fabrizio through Helga. They had both worked at Dairy Queen the previous summer while Helga was looking for a nursing position and Sophie was saving money for college. They had become friends while working there, and Sophie had first met Fabrizio when he came by to pick Helga up after work one day. Sophie had liked him, though she had wondered if Helga was being a bit incautious, getting engaged to someone who was not quite on the right side of the law. Still, they had gotten along well, although it was Rose who had somehow brought the whole group together and made them close friends. Rose had always had a talent for bringing people together, though Sophie still didn't know how Rose had met Jack, and neither of them had ever been inclined to talk about it.

They crossed the border around noon. It was a warm day, though not as hot as it would be later in the season. They slowly made their way south, hoping not to get lost; none of them had ever been to this part of Mexico before. There had been some earthquake damage here, too, although not so severe as in Masline and the surrounding cities. The road was buckled and cracked in places, and occasionally blocked by rocks or fallen trees. As they drew closer to Fabrizio's village, the road changed to dirt, bumpy and narrow.

In spite of her grief over the deaths of her friends, Rose was intrigued by what she saw. She had never been to Mexico before, in spite of the fact that she had spent most of her life within two or three hours of the border. Many of the reports she had read about poverty in Mexico were true, to her observations, and she understood why so many people left Mexico and came to the United States seeking work. They had passed by a couple of shanty towns close to the border, and they were as rundown as any homeless enclave that Rose had seen in the United States, but worse, because they were much larger. Rose had seen poverty in the United States—it was unavoidable, no matter how hard people tried to ignore it or sweep it under the rug, and Rose was one of those who deliberately went into the poorer areas, the more rundown areas, because she had little fear of them and because she wanted to learn—but it was different, seeing it in another country. And yet, she knew that there were people in Mexico who lived well, despite the country's rampant socioeconomic problems, some of them preying upon those less fortunate. The United States and Mexico had more in common than either wanted to admit.

The village itself was a small, ramshackle collection of buildings, mostly consisting of houses, but also including a couple of stores, a _cantina_—the Mexican equivalent of a bar—a small school, and, surprisingly, considering how few cars there seemed to be, a gas station. A few of the houses had cars or trucks parked near them, most as well worn as Tommy's car, but the prevalent means of travel in the town was by walking. Cars weren't really necessary when most friends, family, and businesses were within a couple of blocks of home.

The businesses seemed to be fairly well kept up, even the _cantina_, although there were a few broken windows and cracked walls and roofs. The damage appeared to be fairly recent, probably as a result of the earthquake. The village was about one hundred forty miles from the epicenter, but the earthquake had been so powerful—9.18, one of the most powerful earthquakes in recorded history—that damage had occurred far from where the trouble itself had started. Rose had read in the newspaper that damage had been reported as far away as Mexico City, so it wasn't surprising that there had also been some destruction here.

Rose eyed the houses with interest as they passed. Instead of the usual identical, uniform buildings that many American towns sported, the houses were an interesting mixture of sizes, shapes, and building materials, not unlike the way that American neighborhoods sometimes looked after they had been in place for forty or more years. There were a few trailers and battered motor homes, some inside yards, others placed in whatever corner could be found. There were some wooden structures, though many of them looked old and weather-beaten. There were also some newer wooden structures, as well as some houses that appeared to built out of sheets of metal and some that were a combination of materials. Rose saw a couple of buildings that appeared to be made of local stone, and one crumbled building that had probably been built from adobe, which was a useful material in regions with sparse rainfall and hot summers, but tended to crumble during earthquakes. A few other adobe buildings remained standing, though some appeared to be ready to crumble at the least provocation.

The roofs of the houses were also of a variety of materials. Some had shingles or tiles on the roofs, though many of those with tiled roofs appeared to have suffered some damage during the earthquake. Other buildings had wooden roofs, or roofs made out of tin or other metals. A few houses had roofs thatched with local materials—grass, brush, reeds—that were cheap and easily available, and, if put on correctly, fairly efficient at keeping rain out of the houses. The drawback to these materials was that they needed to replaced fairly often, since they rotted more easily than most materials.

The doors and windows of the buildings also sported an interesting array of covers. Many of the houses had open doors and windows, with no covering at all, while others had screens or pieces of material covering the openings. A few windows were boarded up, and some of the glass windows were broken. Some of the doors on the houses were made of wood or metal, and Rose saw one house with a door that appeared to constructed of thatch on a wooden frame, a clever idea. The people of the village were poor, but they made do.

Many of the houses had fair-sized yards, especially on the outskirts of town, and, while a few of the yards were mostly filled with trash—a few old appliances, broken tools and implements, a few rusted vehicles—others had patches of bare ground and weeds, intermixed with gardens, outdoor work areas, and clotheslines. It was a pleasant day, so many people were outside, working, talking, and supervising young children. Most of the people that Rose saw appeared to be fairly young—few seemed to be older than their late forties or early fifties—and she surmised that the harshness of life tended to take people at a younger age. She saw a few older people, possibly in their sixties or even seventies, but most people seemed to be younger. Some of the houses had been built close together, with shared yards, and Rose recalled a custom that some Hispanic families in the United States observed, with close relatives living near to each other, rather than scattering far and wide as many white families did. The custom seemed to be the same in this Mexican village.

Even with many of the school-age children in class at this hour, there were still large numbers of children running around, playing in the yards or napping in the shade. Many of them were small children, or older ones who no longer went to school, but there were some school-age children about, as well. One small boy darted into the street as they passed, only to be pulled back by an older sister, who scolded him loudly in Spanish. A few people eyed them suspiciously—not many Americans visited their town—while others watched them curiously. Some people gave them only a passing glance, and some ignored them completely, more concerned with their work and conversations than with a battered carload of American visitors.

Fabrizio's family lived near the southeastern edge of town, and as Tommy slowly navigated the narrow dirt streets of the town, Rose saw the small church that served as a religious and social center for the community. A girl of about eight years of age sat on the steps in front of the church, looking forlorn, and Rose recognized her as Fabrizio's youngest sister, who had been present at the wedding almost three weeks earlier. There had been eight children in the de Rosa family—Fabrizio, the eldest at twenty-three; Carlos, twenty years old and working for the local farms; Maria, eighteen years old, married, and living about two streets away; Esther, seventeen; Tomas, fourteen; Angel, twelve; Luz, the eight-year-old they had seen at the church; and Joaquin, six years old and the youngest of the de Rosa children. Fabrizio's father had died about six years earlier, just before Joaquin was born, leaving Fabrizio's mother, Ana, and the older de Rosa children to support the family. Fabrizio had first attempted to enter the United States in 1997, at age seventeen, but had quickly been caught by the Border Patrol and sent back. He had tried again the following year, and had again been unsuccessful. Finally, in 2001, he had made yet another attempt, this time going farther east and crossing the border in Arizona, and had been successful. He had been back to Mexico only once in that time, after he had obtained the fake documentation and stood less of a chance of having to stay in Mexico. He had still been challenged by the Border Patrol coming back, but Jack had accompanied him, and the presence of someone who was clearly an American had helped convince the Border Patrol agents to let him through.

It took awhile to find the house—none of them was familiar with the town—but finally, near two o'clock, after about twenty-five minutes of driving around the village, Sophie spotted Fabrizio's mother standing in front of her house, watching for them, and they came to a stop.


	18. A Time to Mourn 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighteen

Ana hurried down the walkway as the four of them climbed from the car, neatly avoiding her carefully tended beds of vegetables and flowers. She watched quietly as they made their way toward the makeshift gate that led to her yard.

The four friends approached her slowly. None of them knew the de Rosas well, not even Helga, who had been married to Fabrizio. They had met Ana de Rosa only once, at the wedding, and only Helga spoke enough Spanish to easily communicate with her.

Two of the de Rosa children watched from the house as their mother greeted their sister-in-law and her friends. Fabrizio's death had come as a shock to all of them. They hadn't even found out about it until two days after it had happened, since they had no phone and had to rely upon the village priest to bring them the news. He had not found out about it until Helga had managed to find the phone number of the church, and even that had taken a couple of days, since the phone lines were temporarily out due to the earthquake.

Now, the four de Rosa children at the house gathered in front of it, watching as their mother greeted the visitors. The four Americans responded as best they could, with Helga translating what the others could not understand. Fabrizio had spent a great deal of time teaching her Spanish, and it stood her in good stead.

Ana escorted them into the ramshackle building, apologizing for the fact that not everyone was there—her youngest daughter had run over to the church earlier, and would probably stay there until the funeral was over, and her two other surviving children would join them at the church at three o'clock. Esther had learned a little English, and helped Helga to translate her mother's words, but they were all very uncomfortable. None had expected that the next time they met, it would be for such a sad occasion.

Ana hurried into the kitchen, bringing out some food she had prepared earlier—corn tortillas, _frijoles_, and rice—and offered her guests seats, serving food to them and her children. Esther made coffee, and soon the nine of them were sitting around the front room of the tiny house, perched on chairs, stools, an old couch, and even the floor, in the case of the youngest children.

The four Americans ate gratefully—it had been a long trip—although the food was prepared a little differently from what they were used to. Ana made her food from scratch, instead of pre-made ingredients, and she used lard instead of cooking oil. Still, the food was good, and they all thanked Ana with a quiet "_Gracias_."

At 2:45, they set their dishes in the kitchen and started down to the church. Tommy offered to drive Rose down because of her ankle, but she insisted that since it was only three blocks, she could walk with everyone else, even if her crutches did slow her down.

They filed solemnly into the church and were quietly greeted by the other members of the family, as well as some of Fabrizio's other relatives. Maria, Fabrizio's married sister, hugged Helga as she came in. Of all the de Rosa children, she had been closest to Fabrizio, and held great sympathy for Helga's loss.

The casket had been placed near the front of the church, and as Rose walked by, she was shocked to see the bruises on Fabrizio's face. She had known that things were bad, from what Helga and Tommy had told her, but she hadn't realized just how bad. Some local mortician had done their best to hide the damage, but nothing could completely hide the effects of having been buried alive and dying in a collapsed building.

Sophie was shocked, too, but for a different reason. She knew the damage that could be caused by having a heavy object fall on a person—she had returned to her car shortly after Trudy had been killed by the falling tree—but she hadn't realized how bad his injuries had been. She had hoped that her friend had had a quick, easy death, without much pain, but looking at him, she doubted that was the case. He had probably suffered a great deal of pain before he finally died.

Helga started crying as soon as she walked up to the casket and looked at her husband for the last time, and Tommy put a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, feeling a lump in his own throat. Fabrizio would be sorely missed by all of them.

They sat a few rows back, in the hard wooden pews, except for Helga, who, as Fabrizio's widow, sat with the other family members closer to the front. Someone slipped Helga a rosary, and though she wasn't Catholic, she sat working the beads through her hands, saying the 'Hail Mary' along with the other family members.

As the vigil began, Rose glanced around, noticing how many people were crowded into the church. The small village was close-knit, and Fabrizio had been well respected. Even though he had been gone several years, living in the United States, people still remembered him and thought well of him. Rose turned her attention back to the priest, though she didn't understand what he was saying, wishing that Jack was there. She knew that he had wanted to say good-bye to his best friend, but he wasn't strong enough to leave the hospital, even for a few hours.

As the service progressed to the funeral liturgy, Rose could hear Helga, Ana, and Maria crying a few rows ahead of her, and the lump that had been in her throat since she had walked into the church suddenly turned into silent tears.

She wasn't the only one crying. Sophie nudged her, offering her a tissue, and Rose saw her friend wiping at her tear-streaked face. Even Tommy had tears in his eyes, though he staunchly refused to look at either of them; instead, he stared straight ahead, at the altar, the priest, anywhere but his friends.

At the end of the mass, the entire congregation filed out of the church and walked down to the cemetery, about a quarter mile away. Fabrizio's casket, closed now, was carried by three of his brothers, two uncles, and an old childhood friend. They slowly made their way down the road, watched by a few onlookers who had not known the deceased well.

Fabrizio's grave had already been dug in the middle of the cemetery, near to other members of the de Rosa family. Nearby was the grave of his father, Felipe de Rosa, and that of his paternal grandmother, Teresa de Rosa.

Helga almost bolted as she watched the casket slowly being lowered into the ground, knowing that her husband, the man she loved, was inside, that she would never see him again. Only the steadying presence of her in-laws kept her standing still as the priest began the rite of committal.

After the funeral, the entire de Rosa family, as well as the American visitors, silently made their way back to the de Rosa home. Helga had stopped crying, and she walked with Tommy, Rose, and Sophie, staring at the ground, lost in her own grief.

Ana invited them in, offering them more food and coffee. They stayed for a short time, trying to offer their sympathy to the family, but they had a long drive back to Masline, a good hundred miles away over rough roads and through Border Patrol checkpoints, and it was getting late. Reluctantly, they bade the de Rosas farewell and started back to the United States.

They made a brief stop at the church to light candles in Fabrizio's memory, adding them to the dozen or so already burning, and then continued on their way.

Helga sat staring out the window as they made their way out of the village and onto the open road, watching until the last lights of the town had disappeared from view, wondering if she would ever be back.


	19. A Time to Mourn 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Nineteen

The group made its way back to the United States in silence. Helga stared out the window the whole way, crying silently. Sophie finally handed her the entire box of Kleenex from her purse. No one said a word.

It was nearly seven o'clock before they crossed the border and headed for Masline. Masline was located in San Diego County, about sixty miles north of the border. Ordinarily, it would have been a drive of no more than an hour and a half, but between the broken roads and weekend traffic, it was nearly three hours before they reached Masline, and everyone was exhausted.

Tommy asked Rose if she wanted to go back to Southland for the night, but Rose declined, realizing that it would be easier to simply stay in Masline until after Trudy's funeral, although she wasn't sure if her mother would let her stay at the house or not. Her dilemma was solved when Sophie offered to let her stay the night at her house. Rose hadn't told her about the problems between herself and Ruth, but she sensed that Sophie wanted to talk to someone.

They stopped by Rose's house briefly while she went inside and picked up some fresh clothes for the following day. Rose tried to slip in quietly, but her mother heard her and came downstairs.

"Who's down there?"

"It's just me, Mom."

"Rose? What are you doing here?"

"I'm just going to pick up some clothes, and then I'm spending the night at Sophie's house."

"How did you get here?"

"My friends brought me. We went down to Mexico for a funeral today, and now we're back."

"Rose, you know I don't want you going down there..."

"I've already been down there, Mom. The funeral was this afternoon. No one bothered us and the people are no different from Americans. I don't see why you care, anyway. You'd happily put me out on the streets, which are a lot more dangerous than that little Mexican town."

Rose instantly regretted the last remark. Ruth's eyes blazed dangerously.

"I've done my best for you, Rose. If you choose to throw it away, that's your decision. Now, hurry up and get your things, and get out. Don't come back."

"Mom!" Rose knew that her mother was upset with her, but she hadn't realized how upset. "I still live here, you know."

"Not anymore. You've made your decision."

"What about the rest of my stuff? I can't carry it all tonight. Besides, you said that I could live here as long as I was going to Elias University. The quarter won't be over until next month."

"When did I say that?"

"When you were coercing me into getting engaged to Cal."

"I never coerced you."

"You knew that I didn't want to marry him then. You gave me an ultimatum."

"Look, Rose...you can come back to get the rest of your things. But you'd better get them by the end of the quarter, because you're not coming back here after that. And you won't be spending weekends here, either."

"Fine. I don't want to be around you anyway."

"You'd better watch it."

Rose clenched her teeth to keep herself from saying something else she'd regret and headed up the stairs. Slamming her bedroom door, she picked up her old gym bag and started throwing clothes into it. She didn't understand her mother's attitude at all. What was so important about marrying Cal? It was the twenty-first century, for heaven's sake. She didn't need a husband, and even if she did, she certainly didn't need Cal. She wanted to live to see twenty.

Her mother had been miserably unhappy married, and had shown no desire to remarry after her husband's death. Rose didn't understand why her mother was pushing marriage upon her, unless Ruth, in her bitterness, was trying to make her daughter's life as miserable as hers had been. _But,_ Rose thought, _marriage to Cal would be much worse than what Mom went through with Dad. At least Dad didn't abuse Mom physically_.

She also didn't see what was so important about attending Elias University. There were plenty of good schools out there, ones that didn't cost as much. Sophie had spoken highly of the college she was attending, the University of Redlands, and Trudy had been attending UC San Diego, only about forty miles drive from Masline. Rose had wanted to go to Masline City College herself in the first place, and after Jack had described it she thought it sounded even better. It wasn't as prestigious as Elias University, but she really didn't care about that. It was inexpensive and paced slowly enough that a person had a chance to absorb all the knowledge instead of memorizing it by rote, and she could always transfer to a university when she was done with the community college.

Rose zipped up her bag and left her room. Using her crutches to help support herself, she made her way back down the stairs. Ruth was waiting for her at the bottom.

"Good night, Rose," she said, in a far more civil tone this time. "I hope you feel better soon."

Rose looked at her oddly, then realized that her mother was staring at her crutches. "Thank you. Good night," she said, coolly but civilly. As she reached the door, she turned and asked, "Are you coming to Trudy's memorial service tomorrow?"

"I can't. I have to work."

"Of course. As always. Why would you ever take time for anything else?" Rose hurried out the door before Ruth could yell at her again.

Hurrying to the car, she climbed in and tossed her bag to the floor.

"How's your mom?" Sophie asked, noticing Rose's scowl.

"Busy, as usual. She won't be at the memorial service tomorrow because she'll be working." Rose's voice was sarcastic.

"She still intent on throwing you out?" Tommy asked. Sophie looked at Rose in surprise.

"Yes. She said I can come back to get my things, and that's all. I guess it's just as well. We'd be at each other's throats anyway."

"Why is she throwing you out?" Sophie asked.

"She is extremely upset over the fact that I broke off the engagement with Cal, and that I won't be attending Elias University anymore. What does she expect? I'm not going to stay with Cal after he tried to kill me."

"I thought you gave him back his ring before he pulled a gun on you and Jack," Helga said, looking away from the window for the first time.

"I did. I have my reasons."

They had reached Sophie's house, so Tommy pulled the car over, allowing Rose and Sophie to get out. Rose dragged her gym bag out with her. They waved to Tommy and Helga before the car disappeared down the street.

As they slowly made their way up the driveway, Rose noticed that Sophie's convertible was parked on the lawn, near where the pine tree had once stood. It still gleamed, even in the darkness, the bright blue exterior looking as if nothing had happened. Sophie stopped and slowly walked over to the car, Rose following.

"It still works," she told Rose, "even after having a tree fall on it."

Rose looked closer, now noticing that the passenger side was dented and the windshield cracked. The paint was scratched on the passenger side, bits of wood and branches scattered nearby from when the tree had been cut apart and removed. There was a gaping hole in the ground where the roots had literally been torn from the earth.

Sophie touched the cracked windshield. "I'm going to keep it...I don't have any other transportation."

Rose was staring at the passenger seat where Trudy had died. It was too dark to tell if there were bloodstains on the seat, and Rose wasn't so sure she wanted to know.

"The inside looks okay," Sophie told her. "Trudy...broke her neck. She didn't bleed to death or anything. It was quick...I hope. Anyway, she was...gone...by the time I got back out here. I was parked on the street, and I had the top off the car. Maybe if I'd kept it on, things would have been okay, but it was such a nice evening, I wanted it down." She stopped, staring at the crack in the windshield. "I should have left it up."

Rose shook her head. "You didn't know the earthquake was going to happen. I would have left the top down, too. Besides, it might not have helped. That was a powerful earthquake, and the tree was pretty big, too. Remember the time we climbed it?"

Sophie nodded, staring at the spot where the tree had once been. During their senior year of high school, they had come up with the brilliant idea of sitting in the tree on Halloween night and terrorizing the trick-or-treaters. Unfortunately, not only had the trick-or-treaters been more amused than frightened, except for the smallest children, but the three girls, Rose, Sophie, and Trudy, had had to wash large quantities of pine pitch out of their clothes. They had never tried climbing a pine tree again.

"It should have been me." Sophie spoke suddenly. "It's my car, and I'm the one who parked it under that tree."

"It shouldn't have been anybody," Rose countered. "Not you, not Trudy, not anybody else. I guess we were just due for an earthquake, and it had to happen at that moment. You were lucky that you got through it okay, along with the rest of your family."

"I know, but still..."

A voice sounded from the front door. "Sophie? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm here. Rose is here, too."

"Well, come in. It's past eleven. I don't want you wandering around out there with the power still out."

"We're coming." Sophie and Rose headed for the door. "It's okay if Rose stays the night, isn't it, Dad?"

"Yes, that's fine. What did you do to yourself, Rose?"

"I sprained my ankle," she told him, still limping somewhat and using the crutches for support.

"And cut her arm," Sophie added gloomily. "The earthquake hurt a lot of people."

"Sophie?" Sophie's mother made her way down the hall, feeling her way along in the darkness.

"I'm home, Mom."

"How was the funeral?"

"Sad. I hate funerals, especially open casket ones."

Her mother gave her a hug. "I know, sweetie, but it's necessary to say good-bye when you lose people you care about."

"I know, Mom." Sophie sounded like she was trying not to cry. "Rose is staying the night, okay?"

"That's fine. Go to bed before you wake up your brother."

At that moment, Sophie's eleven-year-old brother, Mark, came trudging down the hall. "What's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Hi, Rose."

"Hi." At eleven, Mark had reached the age where he wasn't sure whether girls had cooties or whether they were interesting, and he had a bit of a crush on Rose. Rose humored him, but did not encourage him.

"Sophie just got home, Mark. Go back to bed," his mother told him, shooing him back down the hall.

He lingered a moment, still curious, before reluctantly heading back to his room. Sophie's parents told them good night and headed for their own room.

Sophie carefully made her way into the garage, pulling a sleeping bag off the shelf for Rose. She returned to find Rose examining the filter that had been put on the kitchen faucet.

"What are you doing?"

"Why is there a filter on the faucet?"

"With all the broken water mains, we need to make sure we aren't drinking contaminated water. There's not much bottled water to be had."

Rose nodded, remembering the broken water main she had splashed through when she had gone to find Jack the night the earthquake struck. There had been other broken pipes when she had driven through the darkness seeking help.

They made their way to Sophie's room in silence. Once there, Sophie switched on a flashlight and tossed the sleeping bag on the floor. Rose noticed that a piece of cardboard covered the window of the room, although the broken glass had been carefully removed.

Suddenly exhausted, Rose dug through her bag for her nightgown and changed into it. She unrolled the sleeping bag and slipped into it, ducking as Sophie tossed an extra pillow from her bed.

Rose had just started to doze off when she heard Sophie crying quietly. Sitting up, she found the flashlight on Sophie's desk and switched it on.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Sophie's voice was muffled. "Sorry to wake you, Rose."

"I wasn't asleep yet, and besides, I spent one night this past week waking my roommates up with worse than crying."

"What were you doing?"

"Screaming. I had some awful nightmares, about...about Cal, and the earthquake and everything."

Sophie was silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke.

"It was horrible. I'd gone back inside to get my biology textbook, and suddenly the ground started shaking. I rushed for the door, but the ground shook so hard that I fell, and the window shattered. The desk tipped over, and I barely got out of the way in time. When the ground stopped shaking, I rushed outside, and I saw the tree...lying on the car. When I got there, I saw Trudy...she was still sitting up, but her head was turned halfway around and hanging to one side. I knew she was dead then, but I still had to check her pulse and make sure. Nothing. She was gone."

By this time Rose was crying, too, not just because of Sophie's words, but because of her own guilt over having not spoken to Trudy since the wedding. She had been so depressed following the morning that Cal had raped her that she hadn't wanted to talk to anyone, and when she finally had started to feel better, she had gone to visit Jack. While she didn't regret the time they had spent together, she wondered if it would have been too much trouble for her to take the time to call Trudy, or send her an e-mail, or stop by to see what she was doing. She and Trudy had been close friends since fourth grade, and now Trudy was gone, and Rose had never taken the time to contact her.

"Where were you when the earthquake struck?" Sophie asked her.

Rose took a deep breath, remembering. "I was at the El Pollo Loco downtown. Jack and I went to dinner there. I'd given Cal back his engagement ring, and he'd promptly used it to frame Jack for a crime he didn't commit. Then he had the nerve to tell me that I'd made a mistake, and that he would forgive me if I put the ring back on."

"Why did you get engaged to him in the first place?"

"Mom sort of coerced me into it. The only way I could afford to attend Elias University was if Cal paid for it for me, and his paying for it was part of the marriage agreement. Mom told me that I would be out on the streets if I didn't accept his offer, and I was too afraid of being homeless to refuse."

"You should have come to me or Trudy. Either of us would have given you a place to stay until you could find a job."

"Neither of you had much space, and I didn't feel like I had a choice. And when you think you don't have a choice, you don't. Mind over matter, and all that. I realize now that I should have listened to my instincts and refused, but I sort of thought that things would eventually be okay, even as I realized I'd made a terrible mistake in accepting Cal's proposal. Later, he found ways to control me, and I tried harder to please him, because I felt like that was all I could do, but things just kept getting worse. He got abusive—as far back as last summer was the first time he hit me—and finally I'd had enough and decided to get out of it."

"And then the earthquake struck."

"Yes. I was climbing out of the SUV, because I was too upset to drive—I'd just told Cal off—and the vehicle started shaking and threw me to the ground. I got up and realized what was happening, and then a crevice opened in the ground, which swallowed the SUV and would have swallowed me if Cal hadn't pulled me out of the way." She paused. "I suppose I should thank him for that, although considering what he did that night, I think his bad points overshadow his good."

"Tommy and Helga told me a little of what you'd told them, about how Jack got shot and everything."

Rose nodded, and filled Sophie in on what had happened after the earthquake had struck and she had gone to find Jack.

She was crying harder when she finished. The emotional strain of the day, combined with her dread of the memorial service tomorrow and the strain of having to tell what had happened that night again, were too much. Rose crawled out of the sleeping bag and felt her way down the hall to the bathroom, where she stayed until she got more in control of herself.

When she returned, Sophie was almost asleep. "You feeling better?" she asked Rose.

"A little. I'm just tired. It's been a hell of week."

"You're right. It has. And we still have to get through the memorial service tomorrow." Sophie pulled her bedspread up to her chin. "Good night, Rose."

"'Night, Sophie." Rose lay down and closed her eyes, but this time sleep eluded her, and it was two hours before she finally dozed off.


	20. A Time to Mourn 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty

_Saturday, May 10, 2003_

Despite her exhaustion, Rose woke at around 5:30 the following morning. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east as she slipped from the sleeping bag and pulled on some clothes. After writing a brief note to Sophie, she picked up her crutches and slipped out the front door.

Rose needed the crutches less and less now; her ankle was well on its way to healing. Nevertheless, she carried them with her as she walked slowly through the streets, occasionally using them for support when her ankle grew tired.

Rose wandered quietly through the streets, relishing the silence. She'd had little privacy over the past week, and it was a relief to walk alone for a while.

She had little idea of where she was going, and simply wandered aimlessly through the residential streets and out into the downtown area.

No one was around. Few people were out and about at such an early hour on a Saturday anyway, and the part of town she had wandered into was still largely deserted, the buildings in ruins following the earthquake.

Rose wandered past the burnt remains of cheap wooden houses and apartment buildings, making her way in the direction of the oldest part of town, where she had rescued Jack from the smoky jail a few days before.

There was little left of the old brick buildings. Most were in rubble, with a few walls still standing precariously. The bricks themselves had not burned, but the contents of the buildings had, and, looking in the direction of the city jail, Rose saw some twisted heaps of mangled steel, where the extreme heat of the fire had melted the cell bars. She shuddered, thinking of what would have happened if Jack had not been able to break through the damaged wall with the ax.

Rose continued on, heading in the direction of the shopping center that she had been in when the earthquake first struck. All of the buildings were in ruins, although none had burned; the fire had died out before it could reach this part of town.

Rose recognized the remains of the El Pollo Loco restaurant, its sign still standing incongruously among the ruins. The other buildings in the shopping center had been leveled by the cataclysm, and several damaged cars were still scattered around the parking lot, some lying upside down or half-buried in the rubble of the collapsed buildings.

As she crossed the street, she saw the buildings that had collapsed upon herself and Jack. One wall of one of the buildings still stood, but all of the others had collapsed into the pile of rubble that had nearly trapped them. The cracked sidewalk was littered with pieces of broken concrete and twisted pipes, causing Rose to wonder how they had ever made it out alive. The odds had been against them, but somehow they'd made it.

As she walked up the sidewalk, avoiding the debris, she noticed the bloodstains that still marred the sidewalk. There had been no rain in the past week, so the stains were still there. Rose stared at them, shaking her head. It was nothing short of a miracle that Jack had survived, his injuries had been so severe. Rose felt a chill as she realized that if she hadn't noticed how badly Jack was injured after they had been trapped, he would have bled to death in the debris of the shattered buildings. They had both been extraordinarily lucky.

Rose walked back across the street to the broken remains of the restaurant. What hadn't been destroyed by the earthquake had been sacked by looters in the days that followed, but a few things still remained intact.

She wandered over to the crevice that had swallowed the SUV and had nearly swallowed her, curious as to whether it had also been picked over by looters. The deep crevice, surrounded by shards of broken glass, had remained untouched. Looking closer, Rose crouched down and reached into one of the broken windows, retrieving her purse from where it had caught on the parking brake and checking the contents. Everything was still intact.

Glancing into the back seat, she saw the drawing that Jack had made of her the previous Sunday afternoon and reached for it, holding onto the headrest on the driver's seat for support. Grabbing it, she sat back up on the pavement, carefully avoiding the pieces of broken glass.

Rose gazed at the drawing, remembering how happy she had been that afternoon. The picture reflected that, her face bearing a real smile for the first time in weeks. Rose shook the shards of glass from it and folded it carefully, tucking it into her purse. It was now torn on one corner and slightly dirty, but she would always treasure it.

Rose stood up, remembering how she had tossed it angrily into the back seat of the SUV just after Jack had been arrested for stealing the ring. She had been shocked and devastated by the feeling of betrayal, the feeling that he had only taken up with her so that he could more easily steal from her. But later, after she had realized the extent of Cal's perfidy, she had risked her own life by going into the burning section of town to save Jack's life.

As she stepped back, her foot brushed against something. It rolled out from under her foot, sparkling in the early morning light. Rose bent down to see what it was.

It was her engagement ring. She picked it up, wonderingly, realizing that Cal must have dropped it when the earthquake struck. The diamonds had caused it to be hidden amongst the shards of broken glass.

Rose stared at the ring, remembering the night that Cal had given it to her. She hadn't wanted it then, but had convinced herself that it was for the best. She knew better now. Cal could have provided her with all the material comforts she could want, but there had never truly been any love between them. Rose had long since stopped liking him, and she had no idea whether Cal truly felt anything for her. The engagement had been a mistake from the start, and Rose was glad that it over now.

She tucked the ring into her pocket and started back toward Sophie's house, carrying the few items she had recovered. The ring and the contents of her purse were valuable, but Rose treasured the drawing most of all. It had a value that could not be measured in money, and the recovery of this tangible reminder of what she and Jack shared made her feel more at peace.


	21. A Time to Mourn 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-One

Trudy's memorial service was held at eleven o'clock that morning, at the church that Trudy had been a part of since she was an infant. Rose got a ride to the church with Sophie and her family, wishing that her mother would be there. Ruth had known Trudy since the two girls had met at the beginning of fourth grade, but, as was often the case, Ruth's desire to work and make money overshadowed everything else—even the funeral of her daughter's best friend.

Sophie was silent as they made their way toward the church. The three of them, Rose, Sophie, and Trudy, had been friends since they were freshmen in high school. Sophie had gone to a different middle school than Rose and Trudy, and she hadn't known many people at the high school. Three weeks into the school year, she had been sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria when Rose and Trudy had come in and sat down at the opposite end of the table. They had ignored her at first, but Trudy's natural friendliness had come to the forefront, and she had included Sophie in their discussion of the hottest guys in the school. The three girls had sat together at lunch every day after that, and soon they were friends.

Both Sophie and Rose were dreading the memorial service, not because they wanted to avoid saying good-bye to Trudy, but because it was yet another sad occasion in a time where it seemed as though the sorrow never ended. Sophie was grateful that at least there wouldn't be an open casket this time; Trudy's parents had chosen to have her cremated, and there was no body to view. She had already seen Trudy shortly after she died, anyway, and had no desire to see her friend's body again.

They walked quietly up to the church, along with some of Trudy's other friends and family members. Rose saw Trudy's parents and older brother sitting in the front pew and hurried up to say hello to them.

Jason and Kay Bolt turned to see her. Kay got to her feet, hugging Rose and Sophie, and gestured for them to sit behind the family. Trudy, Sophie, and Rose had spent so much time going from one friend's house to another's during their high school years that Kay looked upon Rose and Sophie as honorary daughters. Certainly, Rose had spent a great deal of time with Trudy, hiding out from her parents' arguments, and later avoiding the dark, quiet house where her father lay dying of AIDS. Rose had often wished that she was a member of the Bolt family instead of her own because they seemed so much more pleasant and stable than her own household had ever been. Jason and Kay had seemed the ideal parents to her, and, although she had learned that nothing was perfect, she still wished that her family had been a little more like Trudy's.

Trudy's twenty-one-year-old brother, Scott, turned and gave Rose and Sophie what was supposed to be a reassuring look, but it was obvious that he mourned his sister's death. They hadn't seen him much in recent years; he was a student at Baylor University in Texas and spent most of his summers there, too. He had just arrived in Masline the day before, flying into Ontario and traveling down to Masline for his sister's memorial service.

Neither Rose nor Trudy had been particularly fond of Scott when they were children. He and his friends had delighted in teasing the girls, stealing their Barbie dolls and hiding them, or making fun of the girls' childish crushes on celebrities. Once, he had buried their dolls in Trudy's backyard and put pictures of their favorite actors on the "graves" for memorials, then laughed uproariously when the ten-year-old girls had retrieved their belongings and run to Mrs. Bolt to complain. Trudy and Rose had retaliated by collecting a jar of slugs from the garden and stuffing them in Scott's sneakers and bed.

Later, when the girls had reached middle school, Scott, an oh-so-mature fourteen-year-old, had teased them about their crushes on boys and their changing figures, especially Trudy, who had constantly tried to hide her still-childish features, particularly when compared to Rose's blossoming figure. Rose, for her part, had initially been uncomfortable with her changing figure and had been even more embarrassed when Scott had found a book on puberty that she and Trudy had been reading and had read parts of it to his friends, putting on a high-pitched falsetto voice and imitating the adolescent girls' giggles.

By the time Rose and Trudy had reached high school, Scott had grown up a little, and so had the girls. Rose even had a bit of a crush on Scott, though she had never admitted as much to either Scott or Trudy. By the time Scott had left for college, Rose had lost interest in him and had turned her attention to a boyfriend her own age.

Tommy and Helga hurried into the church just as the minister began to speak, sitting down beside Rose and Sophie. Helga looked exhausted, as though she hadn't slept the night before, and her eyes were still red. Tommy also looked tired, but he sat straight, looking toward the front of the church.

For the first time, Rose noticed the collage of pictures of Trudy that had been displayed on a sheet of poster board. There were pictures of Trudy from infancy onward surrounding a large photograph in the center, Trudy's senior picture. Rose remembered the day that the picture had been taken, because she, Trudy, and Sophie had gone to get their pictures taken together.

Rose listened quietly to the minister's words, remembering when she had first met Trudy. It had been the first day of fourth grade, and Rose was new in town. Her family had just moved to Masline from San Bernardino a couple of weeks earlier and she didn't know any of the other kids. The teacher had seated the students in alphabetical order and had refused to acknowledge the DeWitt part of Rose's last name. As far as the teacher was concerned, a person should have only one last name, and he had considered Bukater to be Rose's only last name. Rose had been seated at the very end of the first row, right behind Trudy. While the teacher had been busy seating the other students, Trudy had turned around and started chattering to Rose, wanting to know who she was, where she was from, and why she had two last names. Rose hadn't known what to make of Trudy at first—she had never met anyone quite so talkative—but soon they were chattering away, and Trudy had invited Rose to her birthday party the following Saturday. They had become friends by the time the teacher got tired of their constant talking and moved them to opposite sides of the classroom.

Trudy and Rose had remained friends throughout the following years, although they saw less of each other after they had started college. Rose had gone to live at Elias University, while Trudy had commuted from home to UC San Diego. When Rose had come home on the weekends, she had often been busy with Cal, and it wasn't until November, when Rose had begun to distance herself from her bad-tempered fiancé, that they had begun to hang around together again on a regular basis. By that time, Rose had met Jack, and the seven of them—Rose, Trudy, Sophie, Helga, Jack, Fabrizio, and Tommy—had formed a close circle of friends.

The minister stepped down, allowing people to come up and share their remembrances of Trudy. After listening to several people, Rose got up herself, talked about how she and Trudy had met, and told the story of Scott, the Barbie dolls, and the slugs, bringing laughter from some of the people in the congregation. Rose had never thought laughter was appropriate at a funeral, but upon reflection, she realized that laughter was probably what Trudy would have wanted, since she had always been such a happy person herself.

After Rose sat down, Sophie got up and shared some her memories of Trudy, including the time that the three girls had climbed the pine tree and tried to scare the trick-or-treaters. Helga and Tommy also came to the front of the church and shared stories about her.

At the end of the service, the congregation sang two of Trudy's favorite hymns, _Nearer My God to Thee_ and _Eternal Father Strong to Save_. Rose had congratulated herself on keeping her composure throughout the service, but she felt herself getting choked up again as she sang the second song. Sophie cried through both songs and immediately sought out her family when the service was over.

Rose wandered slowly into the fellowship hall, where the wake was being held. Trudy's parents had brought the pictures of their daughter with them, as the church was to be used for another memorial service immediately after Trudy's. So many people had died in the earthquake that funerals couldn't be scheduled for separate days, or even separate parts of the day. There had been a funeral an hour before Trudy's, and there were three other funerals scheduled for that day alone.

A buffet table had been set up in the fellowship hall, with a variety of food spread across it. Rose put a few items on a paper plate, but she wasn't really hungry. She always lost her appetite when she was upset, and funerals were among her least favorite activities. She had one more funeral to get through, the televised one for all of the earthquake victims that she would watch with Jack tomorrow. After that...Rose wished that she could relax and allow the strain of the past week to dissipate, but time was of the essence. After the televised funeral tomorrow morning, she would take the bus up to Murrieta to see Cal.


	22. A Time to Mourn 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Two

_Sunday, May 11, 2003_

Sophie brought Rose back to Southland early the next morning on her way back to Redlands. She had already missed a week of classes, so she couldn't stay longer. Helga had dropped off Jack's portfolio the evening before, instructing Rose to bring it to him at the hospital. She wasn't sure when she would have time to see him, so she gave it to Rose to bring to him. Hospital stays could get extremely boring once a person had begun to recover but wasn't yet ready to leave.

Sophie dropped Rose off at Memorial Hospital around nine o'clock that morning. The televised funeral service was scheduled for ten o'clock in Masline. Rose made her way into the hospital waiting room and, after returning her crutches, which she no longer needed, she set about locating Jack.

As the doctor had predicted, he was no longer in intensive care. His condition had stabilized enough that he had been moved to another part of the hospital. After inquiring about him, Rose learned that he was now on the second floor and was on his way to recovery.

After a few minutes of wandering around, Rose found Jack's room. He was sitting up, his leg still in traction, picking at a more varied, but still unappetizing, breakfast tray.

He looked up when she came in. "Hey, Rose," he greeted her.

"Good morning. I see they're feeding you better food this time."

"Sort of." He put the last bite in his mouth, then attempted to set the tray aside. Rose grabbed it before he could drop it on the floor. He was doing better, but mobility was a problem.

Setting the tray aside, she dragged over a chair that had been abandoned at the bedside of someone else and sat down next to him.

"They say you're doing better."

He shrugged. "I guess."

Rose was vaguely disturbed at the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, but pushed her thoughts aside. It had been a rough week for all of them.

"How are you feeling? I mean, really. Not just what the doctors say, but how you feel."

He looked at her. "You want to know the truth? My head hurts, my back hurts, my leg hurts, I want to get up, I'm allergic to their painkillers, and the food is disgusting. That tell you enough?"

"You're allergic to painkillers?"

"Yep. I knew there was a reason why I never got into drugs. They make me sick."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "Ugh."

"You said it."

Rose handed him the portfolio. "I brought you this. There's more paper in it, too, so you can do some drawing. Hospital stays can get really boring."

"I've noticed." He glanced through the portfolio, then set it aside.

Once again, Rose was disturbed by his lack of enthusiasm. Shaking her head, she tried to put her concerns in perspective. He'd suffered a serious head injury less than a week earlier, as well as being shot and trapped in a cave-in. That could get anyone down. He'd been in a coma for three days and had been in intensive care until last night. He had legal worries, thanks to Cal, and his best friend had died in the earthquake. It was no wonder he seemed a little down. She hadn't been the picture of happiness this past week herself, and she, at least, had suffered less physical trauma from the earthquake. Still, Jack was usually more optimistic than this and his lack of enthusiasm bothered her.

Setting her concerns aside, Rose asked him if he'd seen Helga.

"She stopped by this morning before starting work. She lectured me to eat properly and I gave her advice on how to stay on her new supervisor's good side."

"How's that?"

"Kiss up and keep your mouth shut." He shrugged. "It worked for me."

"I didn't care for her, either. She liked nothing better than to kick me out."

"Usually, in intensive care, only family members can visit, and only for a short time. The rules were all set aside because of the confusion following the earthquake. You're lucky she let you come back."

"I sneaked past her a couple of times."

"I'm sure that made her happy."

"If by happy you mean furious, it certainly did."

It was almost ten o'clock, so Rose looked around for the remote. Finding it, she turned the television on and clicked through the channels, searching for the local events station.

When she found it, she set the remote aside and reached for Jack's hand. He was trying to avoid looking at it, as if he could deny what had happened by not acknowledging it.

"Jack." He turned his head as she spoke his name. "Everyone else apologizes for not being here. Tommy and Helga had to work, and Sophie had to get back to school."

"I know. Helga told me. She did say, though, that Tommy might take a couple of hours off from work to be at the memorial service itself, and Sophie wanted to stay, but she got a call from her roommate last night, who told her what she was missing at college, so she had to go back."

"That's right, she did." Rose thought that Sophie probably could have waited another couple of hours before returning to college, but she doubted than her friend could handle another funeral. It was probably just as well that she had headed back to school.

The picture on the screen changed from the usual community announcements to the televised funeral, held in what was once the Wal-Mart parking lot. A local reporter, stumbling over his words, announced what was going on before the camera was turned to pan over the crowd and come to a close-up of the minister.

"Do you know him?" Jack asked her, indicating the minister, who had begun to speak in behalf of all those who had died.

Rose nodded. "He's the assistant minister at my church, Allen Johnson. He takes over when the regular minister is away."

"What happened to the regular minister this time?"

"I don't know. Nothing bad, I hope."

They turned their attention back to the television. Reverend Johnson was speaking, talking about the terrible tragedy that had befallen Southern California, and about the thousands of people who had died—two thousand in Masline alone. Both Jack and Rose were stunned, but not surprised, by the death toll.

A makeshift choir, composed of groups from several churches, a synagogue, and a mosque, sang a variety of songs in several languages. After that, the names of those who had died were read aloud, with a bell being rung after each hundred names.

Rose was familiar with this ritual—it was done every year at her church to commemorate those who had died in the past year. Under ordinary circumstances, though, there were few enough people that a candle was lit and a bell rung after each name. With the thousands of deaths from the earthquake, there was not enough time, or space, for such remembrances. The reading and the sparse bell tones alone had to suffice.

They sat quietly, listening for the names of those they knew. When Rose heard Trudy's name read aloud, followed by a bell tone, her eyes overflowed. Jack squeezed her hand and gave her a tissue from the small box beside his bed. Rose tightened her hand around his, and out of the corner of her eye, saw him surreptitiously reaching for a tissue for himself. Neither said a word.

When the memorial service was over, Rose turned off the television and leaned her head against Jack's shoulder, trying to regain her composure before heading out to do what needed to be done. Jack stroked her hair and put one arm around her shoulders, his other hand reaching up to wipe his eyes.

Rose put both of her arms around him, careful not to jar any of his injuries or the IV line that was still attached to his arm. "It's over," she whispered. "It's really over."

He didn't respond, but just put his other arm around her, holding her close, their foreheads touching. After a few minutes, Rose pulled back.

"I have to be going," she told him, glancing at the clock on the wall and noticing that it was nearly 12:30.

"You're going to go and visit Cal."

She nodded. "Yes."

"You don't have to do this, you know."

Rose smiled sadly. "Yes, I do. He's gotten away with too much already. I'm not going to let you wind up in prison for a crime you didn't commit. This is the only way."

"Blackmail."

"Justice." She shook her head. "I probably wouldn't have pressed charges against him anyway...for what he did to me...but I can use the information to threaten him. And, if he doesn't drop the charges against you, I will press charges for what he did to me. He will get his just desserts...I hope."

Jack sighed, knowing that there was no changing her mind. Rose had been hurt by Cal and she deserved justice...but she was willing to sacrifice that for his sake. He looked at her, knowing that few men were as fortunate as him. How Cal could have abused and mistreated someone like Rose, he would never understand. He hugged her one last time.

"Good luck."

"Thank you." Rose stood, wanting to leave before either of them broke down again. Swiftly, she leaned down and kissed him, then hurried from the room. Jack listened as her footsteps receded in the distance.


	23. The Trial of Caledon Hockley 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Three

Rose walked slowly toward the building housing the jail. Despite her earlier words to Jack, she wasn't at all certain that she could manipulate things so that justice would be served. Cal was stubborn and devious, as she well knew, and he might well be able to get off with a slap on the wrist—or less. Still, she had to try. Cal's lawyer, Spicer Lovejoy, was one of the best, and Cal knew a great deal about how the legal system operated, but she still wouldn't let him get away with what he had done without a fight.

Rose touched the large, odd-looking bun on the side of her head just above her left ear, touching the tiny plastic tape recorder, one that she often used to tape lectures, that she had hidden inside. She didn't know whether she would be able to bring it in with her, but if she could, she would try to tape their conversation. She had already called ahead, confirmed that she could see Cal, and had ridden the bus up to Murrieta.

Rose slipped inside the front door and approached the desk. The guard working there looked up.

"I'm here to see Caledon Hockley," Rose told him. He nodded, coming around the desk.

Using a metal detector, he checked her for weapons. Soon, she was seated on the other side of a glass partition from Cal.

He looked surprised to see her, and a little uncomfortable. Of course, the last time they had seen each other, he had been trying to kill her. He probably hadn't expected her to show up at the jail.

He sat back, trying to look nonchalant. Rose looked at his prison uniform, the ugly orange color making him impossible to miss.

Cal picked up the phone. "Why are you here?" he asked abruptly.

"I need to talk to you." Surreptitiously, Rose reached into her hair and switched on the tape recorder. Cal didn't notice the gesture.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Well, I have something to say to you. And you'd better listen, because it could affect the outcome of your trial."

"I doubt that."

Rose smiled coldly. She was in control now, and she knew it. "You're already being charged with embezzlement and attempted murder."

"What's your point?"

Rose looked around quickly to make sure no one was listening. "How would you like to have a rape charge added to that?"

He paled slightly, but kept the smirk on his face. "Since I have never committed rape, I'm sure your charge would never stand."

"You have a very poor memory, then. Three weeks ago today, you blew up at me, beat me within an inch of my life, threw me on the floor, and raped me."

Cal answered very calmly. "That never happened."

"It did, and I can prove it."

"How?"

"DNA evidence. I kept the ruined clothes after it happened. I didn't wash them, either. I just threw them into a corner of my closet. The evidence is still there."

"That doesn't prove anything. Many engaged couples have sex."

"Not so brutally that the woman bleeds from it."

"It's not my problem if it was your time of month..."

"It wasn't. Trust me on that. And there is a difference between that kind of bleeding, and bleeding from an injury. Someone who knows what they're doing could probably tell the difference." Rose wasn't sure about that, but from Cal's expression, she could tell that he hadn't considered that possibility and that he believed her.

He shrugged. "You were a virgin."

Rose stared at him. "I was not. In case you don't recall, we took care of that last summer." She put her hand up before he could speak again. "And there are those who could testify to the truth of that. Remember last September, the night before I went off to college, when that cop caught us in the back seat of your car? Obviously, with what we were doing then, I couldn't have been a virgin seven months later, and you know it." She glared at him, her eyes cold.

Cal knew when he was beaten, though he still looked at her defiantly, trying not to let her know that he knew she had the upper hand. "What was your reason for coming here? To harangue me about something I already know?"

"So you admit that you raped me, then?"

"You deserved it."

Rose looked at him with contempt. "Now, as to why I'm here...I want you to drop those charges against Jack."

"No."

"You framed him, and all three of us know it."

"I didn't—"

"You did. If that wall hadn't broken in the earthquake, he would have died in that jail."

"That's not my concern. Criminals deserve exactly what they get."

"I hope you remember that when you go on trial."

"What makes you think that I would drop the charges against him?"

"If you drop those charges, I will keep my mouth shut about you raping me."

"Blackmail, Rose?"

"You'd know all about it." She paused. "Think about it, Cal. Right now, you're only being charged with attempted murder and embezzlement. Embezzlement is a white-collar crime. People who practice it seldom get a harsh sentence. As to your attempt to murder Jack and me—it appears impulsive, a crime of passion. If, however, the jury hears about how you have treated me in the past...what you did to me...it might just convince them that you planned to kill us. Premeditated crimes carries a much harsher penalty than a crime of passion. You're just lucky that you missed me, and that Jack survived. Otherwise, you could be up on a murder charge."

"Need I remind you that Spicer Lovejoy has a reputation for being one of the best lawyers in southern California?"

"_One_ of the best. There's others."

"Which neither of you can afford."

"But Sun Titan Industries can, and they're the ones charging you with embezzlement. Don't be so sure of your victory yet, Cal. And don't forget, you may have a good lawyer, but you have two serious charges against you, and you'll have at least one more if you don't drop those charges against Jack." Rose's eyes were implacable. "Besides that, Jack would be well within his rights to press charges against you for framing him. Do you really want more charges against you?"

Cal clenched and unclenched his hands furiously. As at other times, he had a strong urge to hit her, but even if he could break through the glass, the guards would be on him in a minute, and he'd have yet another charge against him. He looked at Rose. Her expression was unreadable.

Reluctantly, almost spitting each word, he said, "All right. I will drop the charges. It should be interesting, seeing how you fare with your gutter rat."

"I'm sure I'll fare very well," Rose told him, allowing no emotion in her voice, no trace of the worries she held. She started to put down the phone, then put it back to her ear. "Oh, and Cal..."

"What?"

"I'd keep my word if I were you." She pulled her hair back just enough to show the tape recorder with its pressed down record button.

Cal's face flushed angrily. "That will never stand up in court. You taped me without my knowledge or consent."

Rose knew that he was probably right, but she wasn't going to give up easily. "Maybe. Maybe not. Would you like to find out?"

"You little—"

"And even if it doesn't hold up in court, there are other places…certain media outlets have been very interested in this case—it isn't every day the CEO of a growing company is arrested for attempted murder, after all. And there's the Internet—there's places where it could be uploaded, file-sharing sites I could place it on. You could be convicted in the court of public opinion long before the court of law gets done with you. In fact, I could even make some money with this, selling it to certain tabloids. But if you keep your word, I will make sure this tape never reaches the public—or the courts."

Cal stared at her for a moment, his mouth twitching slightly in a way she often seen just before he lost control and hit her. Suddenly, he slammed the phone down, getting up and walking away before his temper could get the better of him.

Though she knew he couldn't hear her through the glass, Rose responded quietly. "Good-bye, Cal."

She turned and walked away, making sure the tape recorder was well-secured in her hair. She had done what she could. She could only hope that it would be enough.


	24. The Trial of Caledon Hockley 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Four

The weeks following Rose's confrontation with Cal passed in a flurry of term papers, midterms, finals, job seeking, keeping up with news on Cal, and visiting with Jack. Classes resumed at Elias University on May twelfth, and students found themselves swamped with work as professors tried to make up for lost time. Rose, no longer under Cal's thumb, found herself less frantic about schoolwork than she had been before, but she still worked hard. What she was learning might well prove useful, even if it wasn't in the way that had originally been planned.

Every afternoon, when she was finished with her classes, Rose went searching for a job. She applied everywhere she could think of—all the places with clerical work, fast-food restaurants, anything—but was unsuccessful until the beginning of June. Just when she began to fear that she would be unable to find employment, she tested for an Office Assistant position with San Diego County and was hired to work in the Masline Mental Health Clinic, which had been only partly damaged in the earthquake and had soon been rebuilt.

Rose continued to keep tabs on Cal, on how things were progressing toward his trial, and on whether he did as she had requested in dropping the charges against Jack. She was gratified when the newspaper reported that he had dropped charges against Jack Dawson, saying that it had been a mix-up. Rose didn't argue. She knew that Cal would never admit to having framed him, and whatever excuse he used was good enough. Toward the end of May, it was announced that Cal's trial would begin June eighteenth—two days before Rose and Cal were to have been married. Rose shuddered inwardly, thinking of what her life would have been like as Cal's wife. She also wondered at the wisdom of holding the trial so soon, with the memory of Sunpeak still fresh in people's minds. It would be a long time before the families and friends of the victims of Sunpeak's collapse would begin to forget, but the general public would probably find something new to be upset about within a month or two. At the moment, however, public opinion against Sun Titan Industries, and Sunpeak in particular, ran high, and Rose didn't think that such an expedient trial was very wise. However, Cal had friends in high places who were expecting him to be freed, and they had arranged that the trial be held soon so that Cal would spend a minimal amount of time in jail. She gave the news to Jack and was surprised to learn that the lawyers hired by Sun Titan Industries had agreed to represent herself and Jack in court. Although she and Jack had also been endangered by Cal, she hadn't expected anyone to represent them like that. She wouldn't have thought that Sun Titan Industries, with their reputation for mistreating people, would have had the compassion.

After her job search had been conducted for the day, Rose went to visit with Jack at Memorial Hospital. He was recovering—physically, at least. His leg had healed to the point that it was no longer in traction, and he moved around the room and up and down the hallways on crutches, regaining his strength. The gunshot wound in his back had healed with no lasting damage. It was the head injury that worried Rose.

Despite was the doctor had said, Rose couldn't help but wonder if there had been some brain damage. The apathy that Jack had displayed the day of the televised memorial service had not gone away; in fact, it often seemed to be worse. He seldom displayed much interest in anything, and Rose felt that for someone who was ordinarily as enthusiastic about life as Jack was, this behavior wasn't normal.

Several times when Rose arrived to visit, she found Jack lying down or sitting up in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling or wall, his expression pensive. He always greeted her and appeared happy to see her, but Rose noticed that he often appeared distracted and even a little depressed. Weeks after he should have been healing he continued to complain of headaches, which the doctors dismissed despite the increasing severity.

At first, Rose wondered if she was being overprotective, or needlessly worried about Jack—after all, she had been there when he was injured, and had seen how serious it was. But when Helga and Tommy also expressed concern, Rose realized that her worries were indeed founded, since they had known Jack for longer than she had, and because Helga was familiar with this sort of injury. When they asked Jack how he was doing, however, he insisted that he was fine, getting better all the time. The doctors did not appear overly concerned, but Rose still worried.

Jack was finally released from the hospital on June sixth after over a month there. It was Rose who brought him home to Masline, driving the used car that Tommy, who worked as a mechanic, had helped her to select.

Although Rose's job didn't start until the beginning of July, and was in the town she would be living in, she felt that she needed transportation. She didn't have much money—she had only been able to save about twelve hundred dollars from her internship—but she knew that she could afford to use approximately two-thirds that amount to buy a used car and still have enough money to get by until she started working. She wished that she could have used the insurance money from the wrecked SUV, but both the insurance and the vehicle had been in her mother's name, and Rose was reluctant to even approach her about it.

Rose avoided the car dealers, whose prices were generally too high for her to afford, and instead checked the sales ads in the newspaper. When she came across an ad for a car in good shape that was selling for only eight hundred dollars, she convinced Tommy to go with her to check it out.

When Rose arrived at the home of the woman selling the car, she gaped in shock at the vehicle. It was the same one she had borrowed to transport Jack to safety on the night of the earthquake. The broken window had not been replaced, nor had the broken headlight, and there were still some faint bloodstains on the front passenger seat, although someone had obviously tried to clean it.

Rose test-drove the vehicle, finding that it worked as well as it had when she had borrowed it a few weeks earlier, and Tommy checked it over, declaring it sound except for the broken window and headlight. Rose wondered at the low price, but when she asked the car's owner, the woman told her that she had been trying to sell it for several weeks, since before the earthquake, in order to make way for the new car she and her husband had purchased. The new car was still parked on the street, undamaged by the earthquake.

The price had originally been higher, she explained to Rose, but the car had been damaged in the earthquake, and someone had used it to transport an injured person, leaving the stains on the seat. She shook her head, saying that she hoped that the injured person had been okay. Rose kept her mouth shut, not telling the woman that she had been the one who had borrowed the car. Although she seemed sympathetic, Rose didn't want to invite trouble. She had enough already.

Rose purchased the car, paying for it all at once. She covered the stained seat with some leftover fabric that Helga gave her, and Tommy helped her replace the headlight and window, lending her the money to pay for the parts and doing the installation himself. The car would have been a bargain at twice the price, and Rose was pleased with her purchase.

So Rose was able to bring Jack home on June sixth. He was still on crutches, but he could get around, and he was considerably stronger than he had been a few weeks earlier. He had no medical bills to pay, as Medical had taken care of everything, so he was free to go.

Jack stared out the window most of the way home. He paid little attention to the car, though in earlier times he undoubtedly would have asked Rose to pose with the car and drawn a picture of her doing so. Now, however, he showed little interest. Rose had seen his portfolio and had noticed that he had made only a few half-hearted attempts at drawing, though the activity inside a hospital should have proven fascinating to a bored artist.

When they reached Masline late that afternoon, Tommy was there to greet them. Helga was still at work. Tommy helped Jack into the house, then took Rose aside, asking how she thought he was doing. Rose just shook her head. She had hoped that leaving the hospital would brighten Jack's spirits a bit, but it didn't seem to have helped. Maybe after things got back to normal, so would he. She hoped so, but her worries didn't fade.

* * *

The quarter ended on June fifteenth, three days before Cal's trial was to begin. Rose had already packed up her belongings from the dorm and taken them back to her new home in Masline, but she still had to retrieve the rest of her things from her mother's house.

Rose arrived at Ruth's house just after noon on the last day of the quarter, having completed her last final that morning. Michelle was already on her way back to Miami, and Mari had returned to Perris the day before. Rose needed to pack up her belongings, including her computer and furniture, before evening. Sophie was returning home the same day, so she had promised to stop by and help Rose, probably around three o'clock.

Rose let herself into the house quietly. Ruth was at work and the house was silent. Before she began packing, Rose wandered through the house, remembering the years that she had lived there and all the things that had happened there. She avoided the dining area, where Cal had attacked her, but wandered through the other rooms, remembering the ten years she had spent in this house. She slipped into her father's old bedroom and retrieved a photograph she had taken of him with a camera he had bought her for her thirteenth birthday. As an afterthought, she also picked up a picture of the whole family in happier times, before her father's affairs had become known. Her parents' faces were strained even then, but Rose was smiling happily, delighted to be with both of them. She was about five years old in the picture.

Rose tucked both pictures inside a small box and began to dismantle her room. She had obtained a large number of cardboard boxes from area businesses who no longer needed them and had been willing to give them to her rather than throw them away. Requests for cardboard boxes were common from college students at the end of the year.

Rose folded the boxes back into shape for carrying things and taped them so that they would stay together. She packed up her computer, her radio, and the small television she'd had in her room since she was twelve. Next came the three lamps, since the sunlight lit the room brighter than the lamps could have at the moment.

After she had packed away her books, cosmetics, jewelry, posters, and old stuffed animals, she began on her clothing. Rose took down each garment, remembering when she had worn several of them. There was the dress she had worn to high school graduation last year, the bridesmaid dress she had worn at Fabrizio and Helga's wedding, the satin dress she had worn the night she met Jack, now mended. Looking at it, Rose wondered how she could ever have been so stupid as to believe that suicide was the answer to anything.

In the back of her closet, stuffed behind the rack of shoes, were the clothes that she worn the morning Cal had raped her. Rose pulled them out as she remembered what had happened that morning.

The dress and undergarments had faint bloodstains on them. Rose shuddered, remembering how Cal had brutalized her. He had been furious, determined to punish her for an imagined indiscretion, and he had done a good job of it, too. Her body had healed—even her broken ribs were now completely mended—but Rose would never forget the pain and humiliation of that morning.

Pulling the garments out, Rose debated whether to keep them or discard them. She wondered if she might need the evidence someday—Cal had dropped the charges against Jack, but he might decide to reinstate them. She couldn't take the chance. And she knew that DNA evidence remained useful for years—some criminals had been freed based on decades-old evidence.

Rose retrieved an opaque plastic garbage bag from the kitchen and stuffed the clothes into it. She didn't want anyone else to see them. She paused as she stuffed the dress in the bag, looking at it.

She and Trudy had been shopping for some new clothes late in February, and had stopped at one of Rose's favorite stores—L.A.'s Nothing Over 9.99. The dress, a long, off-white gauze sundress, had been on the clearance rack for only four dollars. It had a small rip down the back seam, but Rose knew that she could repair that easily enough. She knew enough about sewing to do that.

Rose had purchased the dress, along with the one she had been wearing the day the earthquake struck, and brought it home with her. It was one of the prettiest dresses she owned, especially after it had been mended. It occurred to Rose that she could probably mend it again, repairing the torn strap, and bleach out the bloodstains, but she didn't want to see the dress again. It held too many painful memories.

Rose stuffed the dress in the bag and tied it shut, only now realizing that her face was streaked with tears. She missed Trudy terribly, and seeing the dress had brought back memories of their numerous shopping trips together over the years. She was worried about Jack and nervous about being on her own for the first time in her life. She was leaving home, and, as her mother had said, she wasn't welcome to come back. This would probably be the last time she would ever see her childhood home.

Rose sat back, wiping her eyes on her T-shirt sleeve. She had many things to mourn, but she didn't have the luxury of taking the time to do so. Not now. She had to move to her new home, get ready for Cal's trial, and then start work. She needed to count her blessings and move on.

Determinedly, Rose got to her feet and stuffed the bag of clothes into a box, taping the box shut. She began to dismantle her bed, one of the few items of furniture that actually belonged to her, and dragged the pieces downstairs, tying them to the roof of her car. She hauled out the small but sturdy folding table she had purchased with her employee discount from Sunpeak, laying it flat in the back seat of her car. She had also purchased a couple of plastic chairs, a plastic table, a small dresser, and a cheap bookcase from the local Big Lots, and had adequate furnishings for the room she would occupy. She would occupy the master bedroom, which had last been used by Fabrizio, since everyone else who already occupied the house were comfortable in their own, smaller rooms.

At three o'clock, Sophie arrived and helped Rose carry her boxes out to her car. Rose's eyes were still a little red, but Sophie attributed this to her friend's worry over leaving home permanently and didn't question her.

It took two trips, with both women driving, to bring all of Rose's belongings to her new home. As Rose was loading the last of her boxes into her car, Ruth pulled into the driveway.

Rose looked up from where she was parked on the street, watching her mother expressionlessly. She would miss her, but she refused to admit it. Ruth and Rose really hadn't gotten along well in a long time, but Ruth was still Rose's mother, and she was still attached to her because of that.

"I see you're leaving." Ruth walked up to Rose.

"Yes. I'm almost done. You won't have to deal with me anymore."

"Rose..." Rose could have sworn that Ruth sounded regretful, but when she looked up at her, she saw only the hardness and determination that had characterized her mother for so many years.

Without another word, Rose walked back into the house, looking around to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. She wouldn't be coming back.

As Rose walked into the kitchen, looking for anything she might have left laying around, she noticed that Ruth had followed her. Sophie was lingering in the living room, not wanting to intrude on this last moment between mother and daughter.

As Rose looked at her mother, she suddenly realized how much she would miss her, and she wanted to know why things had turned out the way they had.

"Well, Rose...I guess this is it. You're leaving."

"As you wanted, Mom."

"Rose..." Ruth hesitated. "Maybe I was a little harsh. About Cal..."

There had been a time when Rose would have wanted to hear an apology from her mother, an acknowledgment that she had hurt Rose through her actions, and an invitation to return home and start over. Now, though, Rose had moved beyond that. She would always love her mother, but she couldn't live with her. She was ready to be on her own now.

"What about Cal, Mom? Why did you defend him when I told you that he tried to kill me? Why did you defend him for the times he's beaten me?"

"I was doing the best I could, Rose. I thought that the match with Cal was best for all concerned."

"The best for all concerned? How could it have been the best? I was miserable with him. He beat me, he tried to kill me, he..." She stopped, refusing to talk about anything else that had been done to her. "This is the twenty-first century, Mom. I don't need a husband anymore than you do. When I marry, it will be for love, not security."

"It seemed like a good bargain."

"A good bargain?" Suddenly, Rose remembered some things that she hadn't thought about before. Not long after she had become engaged to Cal, her mother had suddenly been granted several new designing contracts, worth a great deal of money. The contracts had been given by Titan Construction.

Rose realized now what had happened. Staring at her mother with shocked, hurt eyes, she choked out, "You sold me. You sold me to that...that monster. So that you could be more successful in a career you don't even like!"

"I thought that Cal was the best choice for you, and you seemed to like him. That's important in a marriage."

"I didn't want to marry him even then. You knew that. And yet, you insisted upon it anyway—to further a career that gives you more stress than you should have to deal with."

Ruth stood stiffly. "I'm perfectly happy in my career. I'm sorry that I used you like that, but at the time it seemed to be the best option."

"It wasn't, Mom. There were a thousand other things you could have done to promote your career, without using me as a bargaining piece." She paused, furious, wanting to lash out. "Maybe if you didn't insist upon drinking half a bottle of wine every night, you could have recognized them!"

"Rose!" Ruth's eyes flashed dangerously. "I've always done what I thought was best for those involved. I apologize for pushing you into the engagement with Cal, but I felt it was the best option. Left to your own devices, you might well have chosen a man just like your father."

"Instead, you coerced me into getting engaged to a man worse than Dad."

Rose couldn't stand it anymore. Head held high, fighting back tears, she marched toward the door.

"Rose!" Ruth called to her. Rose didn't turn.

"Good-bye, Mom."

And with that, Rose left home for the last time.


	25. The Trial of Caledon Hockley 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Five

_Wednesday, June 18, 2003_

Cal's trial began on June 18, 2003 in San Diego. Rose and Jack were both present. After conferring with Sun Titan Industries' lawyers, they learned that Cal had entered not guilty pleas to both the charges of embezzlement and attempted murder, even though a guilty plea could have given him less time in prison. Cal, however, was still sure that his lawyer, Spicer Lovejoy, could get him out of trouble, and refused to do anything that might jeopardize his chances of getting away with what he had done.

Rose feared that Cal would, indeed, get away with his attempt to kill them. She had met Mr. Lovejoy a couple of times and didn't particularly like him. Still, she had to admit that he was one of the best lawyers around, and if anyone could get Cal out of trouble, it was him.

The trial began promptly at 9:30. The jury members sat in their box at the side of the courtroom, several of them looking like they wanted to be someplace else. The judge was at the front of the room, with the bailiff and the court recorder nearby. The defendant and the lawyers were seated at a table facing the judge, and the witnesses and observers sat in chairs behind them, waiting.

Jack was the first one called to the stand. He limped up to it—the cast had been taken off his leg the previous day, but he was still having some difficulty walking—and sat down. After he took the oath to tell the truth, the lawyers began questioning him.

Jack told them what had happened, beginning with Cal's confronting Rose in the restaurant about her being with Jack, and continuing on through their fight and his arrest. When asked if the arrest had been a mistake, he agreed that it had been, although not for the same reasons as Cal had given; Jack felt that it had been a mistake to frame him in the first place. However, he kept quiet about being framed, since Cal had dropped the charges. When asked how he had gotten out of jail, he told them he had escaped through a broken portion of the wall, and that the flames had been close to destroying the building when he escaped. Ordinarily, he would have been in more trouble for leaving the jail, but under the circumstances, it was thought that he had a good reason for leaving and no charges were pressed.

Jack continued to answer questions, telling how he and Rose had met up with Cal, and about the subsequent argument between Cal and Rose. He concluded by telling about how he had been shot in the back as he ran away from Cal, pushing Rose in front of him to shield her from the bullets.

After he told his story, the lawyers cross-examined him, with their questions occasionally being objected to by the judge when they moved into irrelevant or inappropriate territory—such as questions about his relationship with Rose, his own criminal history, and his work for Sunpeak. The judge also objected to Jack's response once, when he called Cal a son of a bitch.

Finally, they let him leave the stand. Two more witnesses were called up, both managers for Sun Titan Industries, and then the lunch break was called.

Rose and Jack walked a couple of blocks to a local Carl's, Jr. restaurant. They settled down at a table near the back of the restaurant and Rose brought their food over. She ate hungrily, but Jack hardly touched his food. He hadn't ordered much either, just a small order of fries and a Sprite. Rose frowned, concerned.

Jack noticed her look. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"You're not eating."

"I'm eating." He nibbled at a French fry, as if to prove his point.

Rose still frowned at him. Jack, like many young men, still had a penchant for eating everything in sight—or at least he had before he was injured. Rose had noticed, though, since she had moved into the house three days earlier, that he didn't eat much these days, and was losing weight. People eventually outgrew the adolescent urge to eat a lot, of course, but not usually to the extent that someone who was already thin would lose weight. He just didn't seem to have much of an appetite, and that, along with his continuing apathy, gave Rose cause for concern. It just didn't seem normal. In addition, he would sometimes sit holding his head as if he was in pain, and then disappear into the bathroom for a while, coming out pale and shaky-looking. Rose was sure that she had heard him getting sick on one occasion, but she asked him if he was all right, he waved off her concern, telling her that he was fine.

Since Jack was obviously not going to talk about whatever was bothering him, Rose changed the subject. "How do you like being a witness?"

He shrugged. "It's almost as bad as being a defendant."

"How so?" Rose was going to be called up to testify as well, and she didn't quite understand, having never been in court before, except for when she had been called for jury duty two weeks earlier.

"They want to probe into every aspect of your life, even if it has nothing to do with what happened."

"Like when Mr. Lovejoy kept trying to question you about our relationship."

He nodded. "Some of that was relevant, because it said something about Cal's motives, but a lot of it—I think he must get off on asking stupid questions about other people's relationships."

Rose giggled at his comment. "Uh…yeah. Probably."

"I actually sympathize with Cal...a little."

Rose stared at him disbelievingly. "Why?"

"Because he has to sit up there, listening to everyone talk about him, hoping that his lawyer can get him out of trouble, while he is being judged by a jury of people who probably don't want to be there."

"I think he deserves exactly what he's getting."

"I do, too, but I know what it's like to be the defendant. Of course, Cal has one of the best lawyers around, at least according to you, while I had a public defender who hadn't done many cases yet. But still, it can be kind of scary, sitting there and knowing that other people are deciding your fate, and that they have every right to do so. Even when you know that you deserve exactly what you're going to get, it's still kind of frightening. Some people act like they don't care, or like it's a status symbol—especially if they wind up serving time—but I don't know. Some people show a lot of bravado they don't really have. I was afraid of where I was going to end up, and after eight months in juvenile hall, I'd learned my lesson. No more stealing, and no more being in a gang. I don't want anymore trouble."

"I wonder if Cal knew about your past, if that was why he thought he could get away with framing you."

He shrugged. "It wouldn't surprise me."

Rose looked over at his half-eaten lunch. "Eat."

"I am," he told her tersely.

Rose sighed, giving him an irritated look. They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Rose finished her lunch and Jack continued picking at his bag of fries.

Rose glanced at her watch. "We need to be getting back..." She trailed off as Jack shoved the rest of his food away and got to his feet. "Are you okay?" He looked sick.

"I'm fine," he told her, turning away. "Excuse me a moment." He hurried away.

Rose tossed the remains of their lunches into the trash and slipped outside to wait for Jack.

He joined her a few minutes later, wearing the now-familiar pale and shaky look. Rose looked at him with concern.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Quit asking."

"I'm concerned about you—"

"Well, you don't need to be. There's nothing wrong with me. Quit acting like there is." He stalked off ahead of her.

"Excuse me for living," Rose muttered, stomping after him.

They walked back to the courthouse and took their seats in silence. Finally, just before the trial was about to begin again, Jack sighed and whispered to Rose.

"Sorry I yelled at you."

Rose glanced at him. "All right. I'll try not to be such a nag."

They sat back as the proceedings began again, each having accepted the other's apology. But Rose paid less attention to what was going on than she had before, her mind filled with worry. Something was wrong, and she knew it, but every time she tried to talk to Jack, he pushed her away. She didn't know what to do, and she could only hope that whatever the problem was, it would resolve itself before long.

Several other witnesses, both for and against Cal, were called to the stand that afternoon. They included the police officer who had arrested him and had taken the gun away from him, three more managers from Sun Titan Industries, two of whom spoke in Cal's favor, and one who didn't, Officer Ross, who had spoken to Rose, Dr. Rodriguez, and later Jack, and Dr. Rodriguez, who had been the one to take care of Jack the most when he was in the hospital.

The proceedings went on until 4:30, when the judge released everyone for the day, telling them to return tomorrow. The trial was expected to go on for about a week and a half, which was short by Superior Court standards, but Cal's lawyer was determined to make it an expedient trial. The witnesses who had already testified were not required to return, and the jury wasn't sorry that the trial would be short.

Rose still thought that Cal was making a mistake in pushing for such a swift trial, but she thought that he probably wanted to spend as little time in jail as possible—he had already been there for six weeks—and that he assumed that he would win. Still, there were so many witnesses against him that Rose wondered if Cal might be a little overconfident. He might well end up serving some time in prison, and, if he did, she wouldn't be at all sorry.


	26. The Trial of Caledon Hockley 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Six

_Friday, June 20, 2003  
San Diego, California_

Rose arrived at the courthouse just after nine o'clock, alone this time. Jack had accompanied her to the first two days of the trial, but he had decided to return to work today. He had missed three weeks of work while he was in the hospital, and had missed another week afterwards. Despite the fact that his boss was open-minded and willing to let him take as much time as he needed, Jack had thought it better not to push his luck, and had returned to work this morning.

Rose made her way upstairs and into the hallway outside the courtroom doors. It would be a while before the proceedings would begin again, so she sat down on one of the benches that lined the hall to wait.

A few other people were also arriving, some talking in small groups, others reading newspapers or magazines. Rose looked through her copy of _Newsweek_ for a few minutes, searching for any mention of Cal or the trial, but soon lost interest.

She looked up as one of Sun Titan Industries' lawyers went into the courtroom. Cal and Mr. Lovejoy, she assumed, were already there. Rose closed her magazine, glancing at her watch.

The trial had only been in progress for two days, but already she was wishing it were over. One of the lawyers had informed her that she would probably be called to the stand today, and she wasn't looking forward to it. She could stand sitting in the audience, listening to other people testify, but she wasn't looking forward to being in front of everyone and telling them what had happened that night. She hoped that she could stand the pressure, and, knowing Cal, he would probably try to stare her down.

Rose got up and went to stand against the wall. It didn't matter what Cal did; she was still going to testify. She wanted to see justice done, and she would do whatever she could to see to it that that happened. There were no guarantees, of course, but she would do her best.

Rose half-smiled, thinking of something that had happened two weeks earlier. She had received a jury duty notice late in May, and had tried to get out of it, but for some reason it was decided that the fact that she had classes wasn't a good enough excuse for her not to be there. So, on Tuesday, June tenth, Rose had shown up in San Diego for jury duty. She had been called for the first case that a jury was being selected for on that day, going upstairs with the other potential jurors.

They had been allowed inside the courtroom at around 9:45, and, much to Rose's surprise, she had known both the defendant and his lawyer. Somehow, the computer had sent her as a potential juror for Cal's trial. When the judge asked if anyone knew the defendant or the lawyers, Rose had told him that the defendant was her ex-fiancé, whom she was supposed to testify against, and that she knew his lawyer and one of the Sun Titan Industries lawyers. Not surprisingly, the judge had promptly excused her from duty. Rose had returned to the jury room and had been allowed to leave.

Rose looked up as the deputy opened the courtroom door and allowed people inside. She saw Cal sitting at the table at the front, as he had for the past two days. He looked like the whole situation was a strain for him, but Rose felt no sympathy. He had tried to kill her, and she was glad to see him on trial. Even if he wasn't convicted, she doubted that he would ever forget this experience. She admitted that she wouldn't want to be in his place, but she still felt that he deserved what he was getting.

A lot of people felt that way. Rose had overheard more than one conversation to that effect, and people had come up to her and Jack and told them how sorry they were that Cal had tried to kill them. Other people, who knew little about the trial, still were glad to see Cal in trouble, especially former employees of Sunpeak, the majority of whom had hated the management and the company itself, were gleeful over the company's ill fortune, and were even happier to see the CEO on trial.

After the preliminary speaking, Rose was called to the stand. She had dreaded this moment, hoping that someone else would be called first, but went up without complaint. She could feel Cal's eyes boring into her as she took her seat. She glanced at him, wincing inside at the still-present anger in his eyes.

The Bible was placed beside her, and the question "Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" was asked.

Rose replied. "Yes, I do."

One of the lawyers from Sun Titan Industries, John Kimmel, spoke to Rose. "Miss DeWitt Bukater, what happened the night of the alleged murder attempt?"

Rose took a deep breath. "I was eating dinner in the El Pollo Loco restaurant in Masline with Jack Dawson. Cal came in and got upset that I was there with him. I asked to speak to him alone for a moment, so we stepped outside and sat on a bench outside the restaurant. I gave him back his engagement ring."

"Why did you end the engagement?"

Rose glanced at Cal. He held her eyes for a moment, reminding her of her promise to keep quiet.

"We weren't getting along," she told Kimmel.

"And then what happened?"

"I went back inside the restaurant. About fifteen minutes later, Jack and I left. Cal was standing right outside the door, and Jack ran into him. Cal followed us, and then accused Jack of stealing my engagement ring. He also insulted me."

"What did he say?"

"He said I knew all about the gutter." Rose grimaced. "And then Jack punched him, and knocked him down, and a minute later Cal got up and hit him back, and they started fighting. Two cops showed up and broke up the fight, and then Cal told them that Jack had stolen the ring. They checked his jacket pockets, and there it was. He hadn't stolen it, though."

"How did the ring come to be in Mr. Dawson's pocket?"

"I'm not sure, but I know he didn't steal it." That much was true. She wasn't quite sure how Cal had put the ring in Jack's pocket. "Cal has dropped the charges."

"Yes. What happened after that?"

"Jack was taken to the local jail. I was upset and was going to drive home, but I got into an argument with Cal first."

"What was the argument over?"

"He slapped me, pushed me against the side of my car, and said he wanted to forgive me for breaking things off with him. He said I was young and naive. I told him I hated him and never wanted to see him again."

Some of the observers whispered at this. It took a moment for the judge to restore order.

"What happened next?"

"I got into the car, but I was so upset that my hands were shaking, so I couldn't drive. I went to get out of the car, and that was when the earthquake struck. The car fell into a crack in the ground, but Cal pulled me out of the way before I could follow it. After the earthquake was over, I wanted to help the people who were trapped in the collapsed restaurant, but Cal pulled me away and said that it was too dangerous. We got into another argument, because I knew that Titan Construction had been responsible for that building, and I realized that they had cut corners to make a profit. I saw Cal take some things from his car—a fallen light pole had smashed it—and put them in his pockets. I think one of the items might have been the gun."

"Did you know he had a gun?"

"No."

"What happened after he took the things from his car?"

"He called my mother to see if she could give us a ride. While we were waiting, we kept arguing. When Mom finally showed up, we were going to go with her, but then I got mad at Cal again, and at Mom, and tried to run off. Cal tried to stop me, so I kicked him."

"Where did you kick him?"

Rose hesitated. The lawyer repeated the question. Finally, Rose answered.

"In the groin."

There were more whispers from the observers. After a moment, things calmed down, and the questioning continued.

"Where did you run off to?"

"I headed downtown. I met up with Jack, and we were walking back toward where we'd been before—"

"Where did you meet up with Mr. Dawson?"

"Downtown…the old section of town, around the jail."

"And how did he get out of jail?"

"Through a broken spot in the wall. The fire later destroyed the jail. I saw it a few mornings later, when I went out for a walk."

"All right. What happened after you met up?"

"We were walking down the street, toward where we'd been before, when we ran into Cal. He was upset to see us, and we started arguing again. I got fed up and started to walk away. Jack went with me, and then he turned around and saw Cal pulling the gun from his pocket. He pushed me in front of him, and we ran toward a couple of buildings that were leaning against each other. Jack fell, and I thought he'd just tripped because he got up right away, but when we got to the buildings, I realized that he'd been shot. Cal kept firing at us—I guess until he ran out of bullets—and that's the last I saw of him until after he'd been arrested."

"Thank you, Miss DeWitt Bukater." Mr. Kimmel stepped down, and Spicer Lovejoy took his place.

Rose's eyes met Cal's for a moment. They stared at each other challengingly until the judge ordered them to stop looking at each other.

Lovejoy began his cross-examination. "Miss DeWitt Bukater, how did this confrontation begin?"

"Cal confronted me in El Pollo Loco because he was upset that I was there with Jack."

"And then what happened?"

"We went outside, and I gave him back his ring."

"All right. And what was your reaction to Mr. Dawson's arrest?"

"Objection!" The judge stopped the question.

"Where did you meet up with Mr. Dawson?"

"Downtown, in the old section of town…around the jail."

"And where did you meet up with Mr. Hockley?"

"Near the ruins of the restaurant."

"And what happened when you met up with him?"

"We got into an argument, and then Jack and I walked away. He pulled a gun and shot at us. He shot Jack, but he missed me."

"And how many times did he fire at you?"

"I wasn't keeping count. I was trying to escape."

"Then why do you think he was out of bullets?"

"Because he stopped shooting at us. He yelled after us, too, so I don't think he was still coming after us."

"What did he yell?"

"'I hope you enjoy your time together!'"

There was a pause as Lovejoy looked over his notes. Finally, he nodded. "Thank you, Miss DeWitt Bukater. You may be excused."

Rose hurried down from the stand, relieved that it was over. She sat quietly through the rest of the testimony that morning until the judge excused them for lunch.

Rose caught Cal's eyes one more time before she left the room and was stunned at the rage she saw in them. He blamed her for his position.

She hurried away, wanting to avoid him. Trying to calm herself, she took a deep breath and started down the stairs. She wondered at the wisdom of her continuing to observe the trial—if Cal was not convicted, he might very well come after her.

She debated the issue throughout lunch, but finally, by the time she returned to the courtroom, she had made up her mind. She would see the trial through to its end. She had come this far, and whatever happened, happened. She would at least get to see Cal sweat. And, perhaps, if things went well, he would even be convicted.


	27. The Trial of Caledon Hockley 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Seven

_Friday, June 28, 2003  
San Diego, California_

Rose continued to observe Cal's trial, making sure that she stayed far away from him. She sat in the back corner of the room, out of his view. On the rare occasions when he did catch sight of her, she cringed at the look in his eyes. He was still furious.

On Friday, June twenty-eighth, the last of the witnesses had been called, and at around ten o'clock, the jurors disappeared into another room to debate whether to convict him or not.

Rose was on pins and needles all day. She tried to read her magazine, but couldn't maintain her interest in it, so she paced back and forth in the hall, waiting for the verdict.

Finally, at 4:30, the jury returned with a verdict. One juror read the verdict while everyone in the courtroom waited tensely.

"On the charge of embezzlement, the jury finds Caledon Hockley not guilty."

Whispers broke out around the room. Cal looked smug. The judge finally succeeded in calming the observers, and the juror continued.

"On the charges of attempted murder, the jury finds him guilty of both charges."

Pandemonium broke out in the courtroom, with people talking loudly and milling around. Cal's smug look changed to one of shock, and then fury. The judge shouted above the uproar.

"Order! Order!"

People finally calmed down. The judge looked at Cal. "Mr. Hockley, you are hereby sentenced to fifteen years in state prison, with possibility of parole after eight years."

As Cal was handcuffed and escorted out of the room, his eyes locked with Rose's. She felt the force of his look like a physical blow. If he had been angry before, it was nothing compared to the way he looked at her now. Whatever feelings of love and affection he might have had for her before had vanished, replaced by a virulent hatred. Cal blamed her entirely for his position.

After a few moments, Rose picked up her purse and headed downstairs, trying to avoid the reporters who were eager to hear her response to the verdict.

She wasn't quite successful. A reporter for the _L.A. Times _caught up to her as she tried to sneak outside, and soon several others surrounded her.

"Rose!"

"Rose!"

"Miss DeWitt-Bukater!"

Rose backed against a wall, then straightened, determined not to let them intimidate her. They meant her no harm; all they wanted was her statement—and her picture, she realized, as several cameras clicked.

A reporter from Channel 7 stuck a microphone in her face. "How do you feel about the verdict?"

"I…" She stopped, looking at the other reporters and photographers surrounding her. "This statement is for everyone." Several more microphones were stuck in her face, and the print reporters crowded closer. Rose took a deep breath. "I'm pleased with the verdict," she told them. "Being shot at was one of the most frightening experiences of my life, one that I hope is never repeated. I'm glad that Cal Hockley will be in prison for a few years—and Jack and I will be safe."

"How does he feel about the verdict?"

"I assume he'll be happy when he hears about it—if he hasn't heard already."

"Where is he?"

"He's at work."

"How can we contact him?"

"I'll tell him you want his statement, and he'll contact you if he so chooses."

"Can't you—"

Rose interrupted the reporter, putting up a hand. "Please. I've given you my statement, and I have nothing else to say. I really need to be getting home—"

"Miss DeWitt-Bukater—"

"Rose—"

"That's enough!" One of the security guards for the courthouse pushed through the crowd of reporters, taking Rose's arm. "She's given you her statement. Now, you need to leave her alone."

There were a few more shouted questions, but the security guard shouted the reporters down. Still holding onto Rose's arm, he escorted her through the crowd of reporters, waving his nightstick threateningly when some of them tried to follow.

"I get so damned sick of them," he commented as he escorted her to her car. "Every time there's a high profile case, they hang around harassing people."

"They're just doing their job," Rose defended them, though she was glad to be away from the reporters and hoped they wouldn't follow her home or bother Jack at work. "They have to get the story and let people know what's going on."

"Damned vultures…" the security guard muttered. "If they try to follow you…"

"If they try to follow me, they'll find that I buy my groceries at a ninety-nine cent store in Southland. Utterly scandalous." Rose pulled the keys from her purse and opened the car door. "Thanks, by the way. If I'd been with those reporters much longer, I might have decided to tell them some unpleasant things that would really piss Cal off and make him want to come after me when he gets out of prison." Even with keeping her mouth shut about the morning in April, there were still plenty of inflammatory things she could have said—about the way he hit her and tried to control her, about the way he treated his staff, about a conversation she had overheard between him and a stockbroker, encouraging the broker to use some inside information about a company in trouble for Cal's profit—plenty of things.

Rose kept an eye out for anyone following her as she drove away from San Diego, but didn't see anyone. San Diego's rush hour traffic was enough to stymie all but the most determined stalkers, and while she was of interest, she wasn't a celebrity.

After stopping at the store, Rose called home on her cell phone, wanting to talk to Jack about the verdict. She could wait until she got home, but she had already waited two hours and wanted to hear what Jack thought.

He answered after a moment. "Hello?"

"Jack? It's Rose."

"Rose, what's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm on my way home—I needed to stop for groceries, and the traffic was terrible this afternoon, plus I got stopped by a bunch of reporters as I was trying to leave the courthouse. The jury came back with a verdict. We won."

"I know…we heard about it on the news. We also saw you on TV."

"How did I look?"

"Like you were being marched to your execution."

Rose winced. "I tried not to let them intimidate me, but after all that's happened…I guess being pursued by reporters was the last straw."

"You did okay, though. Thanks for not telling them how to contact me."

"Has anyone found our home phone number and called?"

"No…it probably helps that the number is listed under Tommy's name. Your mother called, though. She wasn't happy about the verdict or your statement."

Rose sighed. "She always did like Cal more than I did. I talked to her when I was moving out, but I guess what I told her about Cal and how he treated me didn't sink in."

"She said you should be grateful for all he did for you, and that she thought he had been wrongly convicted."

"Wrongly convicted! He tried to kill her only child!" Rose clenched the phone, trying to calm herself. It wasn't good to get upset while driving.

"She said that she was sure he was only trying to kill me, not you, and that he only did it because he was jealous."

"I bet her words were slurred when she said it."

"Very slurred, and she started yelling so loud that I held the phone away from my ear. Tommy was listening to my end of the conversation, so he took the phone away, told her not to call back, and hung up. She tried to call back after that, but we checked the caller ID before answering."

"And if any of us runs into her later and asks her about it, she won't remember half of it—or at least she'll claim she doesn't. She's been this way since Dad died—she'll get upset about something, drink too much, and then not remember it the next day. She used to sit and harangue me about things when I lived at home, and she called me at the dorm sometimes after I went to college." She was silent for a moment, negotiating a five-way stop. When she spoke again, she asked, "What do you think of the verdict?"

Jack was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, "It's good, I guess. You'll be safe from him for a while." He sounded less than enthused.

"Don't sound so excited. I wouldn't want you to tax yourself."

He sighed. "Sorry. I'm just tired. It's been a long day." He paused. "Rose, I'm glad he's been convicted, though I wish he'd gotten more time in prison. I'm afraid he'll hurt you when he gets out."

"That's a long time from now…I may be far away by then. You might be, too. Remember, you were the one who actually got shot."

"I know. I've still got the scars. How did he react?"

"He looked smug when it was announced that he had been found not guilty of embezzlement, but when he heard the verdict on his murder attempts, he looked absolutely shocked—and furious. I'm glad he's going to be locked up, because I think he hates me. The look on his face..."

"Maybe he'll learn something from the experience." Jack didn't sound too hopeful. "Maybe he'll forgive you by the time he gets out."

"I hope so." The phone beeped, indicating that the battery was low. "I've got to get going. The phone's about to die. I'll see you when I get home, okay?"

"Okay. See you, Rose."

"Bye."


	28. Into the Darkness 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Eight

_Thursday, July 3, 2003_

Rose hummed to herself as she cut the ends off of some green beans and dropped them into a saucepan. She had been living in this house for two and a half weeks now, and already she thought of it as home. She had started her new job on Monday of that week and found it very much to her liking, far more interesting than anything she had done as an intern for Cal.

Rose hummed another tune as she filled the saucepan with water and set it on the stove, waiting to turn it on until the others were home. She was usually the first to return home, since her job was in Masline and she finished for the day at five o'clock. Tommy also worked in Masline, but he worked until 5:30, and Jack and Helga both worked in Southland.

Life was good—mostly. She did still have a lot to learn about working in mental health—it was a sensitive sort of job—but she was learning quickly, and the clients seemed comfortable with her. She had been upset when, on her second day on the job, two people had called simultaneously with crises, threatening to commit suicide, and she had had to keep them both on the line and talking to her, while she found counselors to talk to them.

On the whole, however, Rose was enjoying her job, and she was glad that she had been assigned to this position. She was comfortable in her new home, too. She got along well with her roommates, which hadn't really come as a surprise, since they had been friends for quite a while.

She also did well in day-to-day life at home, although she had to admit that her culinary skills needed some work. It was her turn to cook dinner this week—each person took care of their own breakfast and lunch—and she had learned on Sunday evening that it was not a good idea to cook vegetables for as long as she cooked meat. The vegetables had come out mushy, almost inedible, and Helga had explained to Rose how to cook them so that they could actually be eaten. Rose had been a bit embarrassed, but she had never really learned much about cooking beyond tossing something in the microwave, which she could do very well.

Even the aftermath of Cal's trial had worked out well enough. Jack had finally called the _North County Times_—the regional newspaper—and given a statement. He had refused to talk to anyone else, though, even when Rose had pleaded with him after reporters had tracked them down and started showing up at their front door. His lack of interest in the outcome of the trial had puzzled Rose—it had taken him two days to even call the local paper—and she was left to deal with the reporters at the door. She offered them sodas and ice water, insisting that they stay outside, and gave the same statement she had given the first time, refusing to give a phone number where either she or Jack could be reached and trying to convince them that Jack's statement to the _North County Times_ was all he had to say on the matter. One reporter had tracked her to her workplace and tried to get an interview, but had been driven off by a psychotic patient who believed that God had told him to protect the women who worked the front desk.

The one real problem that she had encountered was actually with Jack. When Rose had decided to move in with him, she had never imagined that things would turn out the way they had. It wasn't that things were openly bad between them—they still spent time together, and occasionally went out somewhere—but Jack seemed very distant, and they had gotten into more than one argument since she had moved in, mostly over the fact that she was concerned about him and was unable to hide her concern. Jack kept insisting that everything was fine, but Rose didn't believe him—not with the changes in his behavior and the fact that he often acted as though he was in pain and feeling sick.

Rose quieted, thinking. Something was wrong, and she knew it. The others knew it, too, but no one quite knew how to approach Jack about it. Only Rose had tried, and her efforts were generally rewarded by him telling her to leave him alone.

She shook her head. She had known Jack long enough to realize that this wasn't normal for him. In contrast to the time before he had been injured following the earthquake, he had generally been optimistic, with a wry sense of humor. Even for a few days following his recovery from the coma, he had continued to behave as he had before, but then his moods and behavior had slowly deteriorated. He was often very distant, seeming almost unaware of what was going on around him, and he rarely laughed or even smiled. He continued to have little appetite, and was often unable to keep down what he did eat, although he refused to admit it. Rose had felt how thin he was when they sat down together in the evenings to watch television. She also suspected that he wasn't sleeping well, since more often than not, he would be sound asleep within minutes, his head pillowed on her shoulder.

Rose suspected that the head injury was to blame. Jack often acted like his head hurt, though he rarely complained anymore. In addition, Rose had picked up enough information from various clients' charts at work to have gained some knowledge of what head injuries could do. His strange behavior, combined with the frequent headaches and continuing apathy, gave Rose cause to worry. But she didn't know what she, or anyone else, could do. Jack would have to admit that something was wrong before anything could be done.

Trying to put her worry aside, Rose dug into the refrigerator, searching for the ingredients for a salad, something she didn't have to cook. As she did so, she launched into another song, one that she had learned from a CD she had convinced Mari to copy for her from Mari's folk music collection.

_Well may the world go,  
The world go,  
The world go,  
Well may the world go  
When I'm far away._

Pulling out lettuce, red cabbage, tomatoes, and a green pepper, Rose began to wash and chop the vegetables, tossing them into a large bowl. She continued her song.

_Well may the skiers turn  
The lovers burn  
The swimmers learn  
Peace may the generals learn  
When I'm far away._

_Well may the world go  
The world go  
The world go  
Well may the world go…_

Rose was cut off as Helga burst through the door, finishing the song for her.

_When I'm far away!_

It wasn't the first time Rose had sung this song, and the others knew it now, too. She turned to look at Helga, wondering why she was home earlier than usual.

Helga set her purse down. Her face was glowing, and she was almost dancing around the room in her practical nurse's shoes.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," Rose commented, watching her. She hadn't seen Helga so excited since her wedding day.

"I feel like that cat." Helga darted into her room to put away her bag, then came back out, whirling around excitedly.

Rose stared at her. "Okay, what is it?"

"What?"

"Whatever you're so excited about. What is it—a promotion, a new supervisor, or what?"

"None of those."

"Well, what is it? You're driving me crazy here."

"I never thought it would really happen, but it has..."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant."

Rose's mouth dropped open. "You are?"

Helga nodded happily. "About two and half months. My doctor confirmed it today."

"Helga, that's wonderful. I know you wanted a baby, but Fabrizio died so soon after you were married..."

"I know. It's kind of a miracle, isn't it? Fabrizio is gone, but he left a part of himself with me." She put her hand over her still-flat stomach. "This baby must have been conceived on our wedding night—or shortly thereafter."

"Or before."

Helga shook her head. "Nope. Couldn't have been before."

"Why not? Oh...you mean you waited?"

"What's so surprising about that?"

"Well...uh...you were living in the same house and everything, and...uh...um...why are we talking about this?"

"You started it. And as to living in the same house...I haven't noticed you and Jack going back and forth between each other's bedrooms."

"Well, not recently anyway." Helga arched an eyebrow at her, and Rose felt her face growing hot. "Uh...I..." She changed the subject. "Do you like green peppers in your salad?"

Helga smiled archly at her. "They're okay. They're nutritious, anyway." She knew that Rose was trying to hide her discomfiture.

Before she could tease Rose again, Tommy walked in the door, followed by Jack. Jack barely greeted them before walking slowly down the hall to his room, looking exhausted. Rose and Helga exchanged worried glances.

Rose wanted to follow Jack, but before she could do so Helga jumped up excitedly, telling her cousin her news. Tommy looked both surprised and happy for her, and then Helga darted down the hall, shouting to Jack that dinner was ready, unable to sit still for more than a minute.

At dinner, Helga dug into her food with relish, declaring that she had to eat for two now. Rose and Tommy, who had already heard the news, stared at her as she finished everything on her plate, plus the leftover salad, in record time. Jack, who was just hearing Helga's news, glanced up at her and mumbled, "That's great," before going back to picking at his food, trying to find something he could stand to eat.

Rose looked at Jack in irritation. _He could at least pretend to like my cooking,_ she thought in annoyance. She was still learning, but she wasn't that bad. Of course, Jack seldom seemed to like any food these days—even when he prepared it himself. He had made dinner the previous week, and had, in lieu of preparing real meals, tossed frozen foods into the microwave, allowing them to get about half-cooked before he took them out. The others had wound up re-heating the food to make it edible. At least she put some effort into her cooking.

After dinner, Tommy and Helga retreated into the living room to watch television and talk, while Rose washed the dishes and Jack continued to look at his barely touched dinner. Rose finally approached him.

"Are you going to eat that?"

He shrugged. "No."

"Give me that." Rose gave him an irritated look as she took the plate from him, tossing the uneaten food into the trash. She wondered why she bothered to buy food for him at all, since he showed no interest in eating it.

Rose sang softly as she began to load the cranky old dishwasher, which often did a poor job of cleaning the dishes but did heat them up enough to ensure that they were clean if they were scraped first. Jack listened to her, holding his head in his hands.

"Would you please shut up?" he asked her. "You're giving me a headache."

Rose glared at him. "No." She sang louder, just to annoy him.

"Rose, shut up!"

"If you don't like my singing, you can go into another room."

"Maybe I don't feel like going into another room."

"You never feel like doing anything!" Rose snapped back.

He got up from the table. Rose scowled at him and turned back to the dishwasher, resuming her song. Her voice grew louder as she waited for him to leave.

Jack's blow caught her by surprise. She stumbled forward against the sink, shock, anger, and fear coursing through her. The blow hadn't hurt that much—he had hit her in the shoulder, and not that hard—but Rose had been abused enough before that any indication that it was going to happen again was enough to bring back the memories—and the anger.

Before she thought about what she was doing, Rose grabbed the paring knife from the sink and turned on him. "Jack, you son of a bitch—"

Jack was staring at her, shocked at his own actions. When he saw the knife in her hand, he reacted, darting out of her way. Rose nearly tripped over the open dishwasher door as she followed him, her fury not yet spent.

Tommy had heard Rose's outburst and hurried into the kitchen, followed closely by Helga. He saw Rose brandishing the knife and rushed to disarm her.

Rose struggled, trying to keep her grip on the knife, but Tommy squeezed her wrist, forcing her to let go. He tossed the knife into the sink, out of her reach. Rose stood beside the stove, shaking from the force of her emotions.

Everyone stood in tense silence, not sure what to do. Suddenly, Rose grabbed the saucepan of still-warm water that she had cooked the green beans in and dumped it over Jack's head, drenching him. She threw the saucepan on the floor and stormed from the kitchen, running down the hall and slamming her bedroom door.

Tommy and Helga stared at Jack as Rose rushed from the room. Jack wiped the water from his face as Rose slammed the door hard enough to shake the house, sending another piece of the damaged ceiling crumbling to the floor. He looked at the piece of plaster for a moment, and then turned and, ignoring the stares of his roommates, walked out the front door and down the street.


	29. Into the Darkness 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tommy and Helga stared as the front door slammed behind Jack. Another piece of the broken ceiling fell in, showering the table with plaster dust.

Tommy started for the door, but Helga put a staying hand on his arm. "Let him go. Let's find out from Rose what happened."

"As long as she doesn't have a knife."

Helga went down the hall to Rose's room and knocked on the door. "Rose? Can I come in?"

There was a shuffling sound; then, Rose's door flew open. Helga stared at her. Rose's face was red with fury, and she was still shaking. Helga had never seen her so upset.

"What happened out there?"

Rose shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her protectively. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Then what was that business with the knife?"

"Jack made me mad."

"Uh...yeah. We kind of figured that. What were you so mad about?"

"He hit me."

"What?!"

"He hit me." Rose walked over to the mirror and yanked the collar of her shirt aside, trying to see her shoulder in the mirror. Nothing showed. The blow hadn't been that hard—it didn't even hurt now—but she was still furious.

Helga shook her head. "That doesn't sound like something Jack would do." She paused. "Why did he hit you?"

"Because he didn't like my singing."

"Since when? I thought he did like your voice."

"He doesn't like anything these days."

"That's true. He's not acting like himself."

"Tell me about it. He hasn't been normal since that piece of concrete cracked him on the head after the earthquake. But that still doesn't give him the right to beat on me!"

"Has someone beaten you before?" Helga asked softly.

Rose nodded furiously. "My ex-fiancé, who is now in prison. That attempt to kill us wasn't the first time he got violent."

"Somehow I'm not surprised."

Rose looked at her.

"I've worked as a nurse for over a year now, and I was a student nurse before that. I've seen a lot of...ah...unpleasant things. Many times, abusive relationships start out calmly enough, and then escalate."

"Do you think that will happen with Jack and me? Everything was going so well, and then the earthquake happened, and he got shot, and got his skull fractured by that piece of concrete..."

"I don't know." Helga looked at her. "I think there's something wrong with him, Rose."

Rose sighed. "I think so, too. But I don't know what can be done to help him."

"A good doctor might be able to help. We both work in health care. One of us might be able to find someone who could help."

"But would he accept help? He keeps insisting that everything is fine."

Helga rolled her eyes. "It's a guy thing. They can't accept that anything could be wrong with them. It's no wonder women outlive them most of the time."

Rose half-smiled. "True. But what can we do to help Jack?"

"I don't know. I really don't. You've tried talking to him."

"And he pushed me away every time. Maybe he'll ask for help, but I doubt it. He has so much pride..."

"Sometimes, when things get really bad, pride falls to the wayside. If he's lucky, that will happen before things get too bad."

Rose didn't ask what Helga meant by "too bad." In spite of what had happened, she still loved Jack, and she was extremely worried about him. He wasn't in control of himself, and she knew it. His shocked look after he had struck her told her that louder than any words could.

They looked up as Tommy cleared his throat. He had been leaning against the doorframe, listening to their conversation.

"He hit you, did he?"

"Yes. I don't think he meant to, though."

"Whether he meant to or not, he still shouldn't have done it."

"No, he shouldn't have. However..." Rose paused. "I don't think he's well."

"You can say that again."

"I don't think this is normal behavior for him. Once, last winter, I asked him if he had ever made a habit of hitting his girlfriends. He looked surprised, and told me no. I suppose he could have been lying, but I don't think so."

"I don't think so, either," Helga interjected. "I knew him when he and Fabrizio were living in LA, and he never once raised a hand to his girlfriend, Beatriz. I would have liked to slap her silly a few times, but when he got really mad at her, he'd just walk away until he regained control of his temper. Has he ever hit you before?"

Rose shook her head. "No. It's never happened before, not even when we argued over something."

"I think he loves you," Tommy told her. "Though he has a strange way of showing it."

"I love him, too," Rose replied, "even if I don't like him much at the moment. I didn't act so great myself." She winced inwardly, realizing that if Tommy and Helga hadn't come in when they did, she might well have stabbed him. Her mistreatment at Cal's hands had made her hypersensitive to abuse, so she had gone too far.

"Well, not with the knife, but I think he deserved the pan of water over the head," Tommy told her, straightening. "I'm going to try and find him. He probably walked up to the hills."

*****

Tommy found Jack about halfway up to his favorite spot in the hills. Jack hadn't bothered to hike all the way up—he hadn't been to that hilltop since the May afternoon when Rose had climbed up to see him. He was perched on a rock, shredding some dried grass in his hands, when Tommy found him.

"Jack."

Jack looked up, irritated at having his thoughts interrupted. "What?" he asked sullenly, looking at his roommate.

"Rose told us what happened. What the hell were you thinking, hitting her?"

Jack got slowly to his feet before answering. "Why should that be any of your concern?"

"Because we all have to live together, and we can't do that if you keep acting like you have been. I don't know what's wrong with you, but it had better stop. Helga's pregnant, and she can't bring a baby into a house with someone who can't control himself. You'd better either shape up, or leave."

Jack stared at him for a moment, then slowly turned and walked away.

"Fine. I'll leave."

"Jack, everyone is worried about you."

"Well, everyone can stop. I'm fine. If I've said that once, I've said it a million times." He stopped and turned around. "Everything is just fine."

"To quote one of your favorite swear words, horseshit. You're not fine. Anyone can tell that just by looking at you. You're sick. When you act like this, it's even more apparent." They glared at each other challengingly.

"There is nothing wrong with me. Why don't all of you go find someone who needs your help? You're nothing but a nuisance to me."

Tommy punched him. Jack tumbled backward into the dust, his hand flying to his bleeding nose.

"You're a goddamned idiot, you know that?" Tommy told him. "You have friends who are concerned about you, a girl who loves you...and you can't even be bothered to listen to them. We'd be better off without you around. Just remember what I said—shape up or ship out." He walked away.

Jack sat up slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose to try to stop the bleeding. He wiped the blood off his face and got slowly to his feet, walking aimlessly along the trail.

_Tommy's right,_ he thought. _I am sick_. His head ached constantly, and nausea was his constant companion. He had difficulty keeping food down, and he probably wasn't able to get more than one full meal's worth of food a day. But those weren't the only problems. The world, which had once seemed so bright and full of possibilities, had dulled and grown uninteresting. He had little desire to work on his art, and he didn't understand why. He was still able to hold his own at work, but just barely. He had seen his boss frowning at his work, and he had been asked to redraw things more than once. He just couldn't concentrate. He had trouble sleeping at night, too, and occasionally dozed off at work. If he wasn't careful, he would be out of a job, and new jobs were hard to find, especially for someone with his background.

Jack made his way slowly down a brush-covered hill, working his way around dry clumps of grass, cactus, and brittlebrush. At another time, he would have noticed the way the sunflower-like blossoms of the brittlebrush waved gracefully in the summer breeze, or the brilliance of the golden grasses against the brown stems of the buckwheat, but now his thoughts were turned inward, and he didn't notice the beauty of the world around him.

Rose seemed to be the only stable point in his life right now, but he'd managed to make a mess of that, too. He clenched his fists, angry with himself. _Why did I hit her? She's already had enough of that with Cal._ He hadn't even thought about it. Rose's singing was usually good, but she had been upset, and her voice got shrill when she was upset. Her loud, shrill, high-pitched singing had made his head ache more, and he taken a swing at her before he thought about it. He wasn't usually a violent person, unlike Rose's ex-fiancé, so he had been shocked at his own actions. Rose had been even more shocked, and couldn't really blame her for chasing him with that knife, or for dumping the water over his head.

It was almost completely dark when he finally turned back toward home, still lost in thought. _Tommy's right about my behavior, too,_ he thought. _They can't really be expected to tolerate me, not when I can't control my own actions. They probably would be better off without my. Maybe I should just take Tommy's advice and leave. But what's to stop me from getting into trouble somewhere else?_

He had been in and out of trouble for years. What were the odds that he would cause trouble for someone else? But something had to be done. Things couldn't go on as they were.

Jack walked slowly through the darkness, picking his way amongst the brush and rocks until he got back to the street.

By the time he reached home, he knew what he would do.

*****

The house was dark when Jack arrived home, except for one light still on in the living room. He came in, wondering if Rose was still up. He wanted to apologize to her.

Rose was sitting on the couch, reading. She stood up when he came in, tucking her robe more closely around her.

"Jack." Her voice was quiet, uncertain, and she kept her distance from him.

He walked closer, stopping a few feet from her. "Rose, about what happened earlier..."

"Yes?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. I guess I just lost my temper."

"I didn't behave so well myself. I'm sorry I chased you with that knife."

"It's okay. I deserved it."

"No, it's not. I overreacted. You just...reminded me of Cal for a minute."

"I'm sorry. I promise, though, that it won't happen again."

"It had better not." Rose's eyes hardened. "I'm not as tolerant, or as naive, as I was with Cal. I won't put up with being abused. If you hit me again, I'll call the cops. Do you understand?"

"I understand. But you won't need to worry about me anymore. Neither will anyone else."

Rose frowned, vaguely disturbed at his words, then pushed her concerns aside. She wanted to put the incident behind them. She approached him slowly, still not quite trusting him, but wanting to make amends.

Jack stood stiffly for a moment, then reached out tentatively and pulled her to him. Rose hugged him back, putting her head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about tonight," he told her, stroking her hair gently.

"Me, too. Let's not fight anymore, okay?"

"No more fighting."

They stood quietly for a few minutes, Rose rubbing Jack's back, feeling his tension, disturbed once again at how thin he had become. She could feel his bones.

At last, they broke apart. Rose stretched up and gave Jack a quick kiss before heading down to her room. "Good night," she told him, heading down the hall.

"Night," he mumbled absently, once again lost in thought.


	30. Into the Darkness 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty

_Wednesday, July 9, 2003_

The change in Jack was remarkable. He no longer yelled at Rose when she expressed concern, or shut his friends out. Although he still often acted like he was in pain, and still ate very little, he seemed much happier, and the others were relieved, and a little surprised, at the sudden change.

Something about Jack's sudden change in attitude bothered Rose, although she couldn't put her finger on it. Whatever it was nagged at the back of her mind, but she was so pleased that he was beginning to behave normally again that she didn't think too hard about it.

Still, Rose was surprised when, on Wednesday afternoon, Jack asked her to go out with him that night. Neither of them had anything else to do, since it was Helga's turn to cook dinner, and Jack thought that Helga would appreciate having two less people to cook for, especially since she was currently suffering from a bad case of all-day morning sickness.

Rose agreed, so they went to a local diner that served real food rather than fast food. Rose ordered ham and mashed potatoes, and ate hungrily. Jack ordered less food, only soup and salad, but he forced himself to eat what he had ordered. Rose watched him surreptitiously, noting that he was eating better, at least for the moment, but still concerned for some unfathomable reason.

It was about 7:30 when they left, and still light out. Rose was reluctant to return home just yet—she was enjoying spending time with Jack—so she suggested that they see a movie. Jack readily agreed, not wanting their date to end yet, so they drove down to Southland, since the movie theater in Masline had collapsed during the earthquake and had not yet been rebuilt.

Jack let Rose choose the movie—he was more interested in spending time with her than in watching the movie—so Rose chose a movie that had just come out that day, _Pirates of the Caribbean_, which starred one of her favorite actors, Johnny Depp. Jack was not so enamored of Johnny Depp as Rose was, though he thought he was a decent actor, but he thought the movie sounded interesting enough. He was glad she had chosen an action movie instead of a romantic comedy—he had always fallen asleep at those even when he was feeling at his best. Now, he hoped he could stay awake long enough to see even an action movie.

Despite his change in attitude, Jack still wasn't sleeping well, and made a regular habit of falling asleep on Rose's shoulder in the evening. She usually woke him around nine, at which time he would make his way to bed and then lie awake for hours, his thoughts whirling. He would finally fall asleep, only to awaken again in the wee hours of the morning, and then finally fall into an exhausted sleep around five AM. Since he had to get up at six, he wasn't getting much rest.

They sat together at the back of the theater, Jack's arm around Rose. Rose leaned against him, eating popcorn. Jack had insisted that he didn't want any, and since he had actually eaten dinner that night, Rose didn't try to push him.

Jack managed to stay awake, but he paid little attention to the movie. He felt himself nodding off several times and had to struggle to keep his eyes open. He had a lot on his mind. He knew what needed to be done, and he could only hope that the others would understand.

Rose looked up when he pulled her closer, but most of her attention was on the movie. Jack seemed to be staying awake this time, so she leaned closer against him, resting her head on his shoulder while she watched the film. She was enjoying herself, even if Jack did seem to be more than a little distracted.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when they finally arrived home. The house was quiet, the others having gone to their rooms earlier. They came into the house silently so as not to wake anyone.

Rose set her purse down on the table.

"Thank you, Jack," she told him quietly. "I had fun tonight."

"Glad you enjoyed it." He paused. "Wait here a minute. I have something for you."

Rose waited, curious. When Jack returned, he had his portfolio in his hand.

"You've been doing your art again?" Rose asked him.

"A little bit," he told her, handing her the portfolio. She started to open it, wondering what he had drawn.

"It's for you," he told her.

"A drawing?"

"No, the whole thing. The whole portfolio."

Rose looked at him, confused. "Why are you giving me this? It's your most prized possession."

He shrugged. "That's why."

Rose felt even more confused, and the nagging worries edged back into her consciousness, but she pushed them away again. "Well...thank you." She paused. "Are you sure you want to give this to me?"

"I'm sure."

Uncomfortably, Rose set the portfolio on the table and stepped up to Jack, wrapping her arms around him. "I love you, Jack," she whispered.

"I love you, too, Rose," he told her. She looked at him questioningly, and he knew that, with a word, she would come to his bed, or invite him to hers.

He stepped back. "Good night, Rose," he told her, turning and walking away, leaving her looking confused and hurt. But it was for the best, he told himself. If they spent the night together, it would make it that much harder to do what needed to be done.

After tonight, he wouldn't see Rose again.


	31. Into the Darkness 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-One

Jack woke abruptly, his head pounding. A glance at the clock told him that it was just past one AM. He sat up, cradling his aching head.

The headache had eased temporarily, but now it was back, as bad as ever. With the headache came the all-too-familiar nausea, and he threw back the covers and got out of bed, making it to the bathroom just in time to throw up everything he'd eaten earlier.

When his stomach had finally calmed down, Jack leaned his head against the cool porcelain toilet bowl, trying to stop shaking.

He had actually felt better for a short time that day, but now the headache was worse than ever. Jack got slowly to his feet, still holding his head, wishing that the pain would stop. It wouldn't do any good to take a painkiller, he'd already learned, and chances were he wouldn't be able to keep it down anyway.

He bent over the sink to rinse out his mouth, suddenly remembering how, when he had been sick as child, his mother had always come to comfort him, putting her cool hand on his forehead and tucking him into bed, watching over him until he felt better.

He hadn't thought much about his parents in a long time, but now, with life overwhelming him, he remembered how simple and pleasant life had been when he was a child, before the fire, before the foster homes and juvenile hall, before the years spent wandering. Before the earthquake that seemed to have destroyed his life.

Jack leaned against the wall, realizing, for the first time in a long time, how much he still missed them. Every unpleasant event of his life seemed to be converging on his mind tonight.

He turned to leave, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he did so. His face was pale, except for his eyes, which were red and swollen. He hadn't even realized that he was crying.

Jack wiped at his eyes, trying to calm down before he left the bathroom, then shrugged. What did it matter? No one was going to see him anyway. Everyone else was asleep.

He made his way back to his room and quietly closed the door behind him. He glanced at his bed, but didn't lay down. He didn't want to lay there for hours, trying to sleep, when sleep was impossible.

Instead, he sat down on the floor in the space between his desk and his bookcase, then wrapped his arms around his legs and rocked slowly back and forth, burying his face in his knees. He couldn't seem to stop crying.

What was wrong with him? He'd never been this emotional before. The last time he had cried this way had been after his parents' funerals, but before the social worker had come and sent him to a foster home.

He didn't know what was wrong. Despite what he kept telling the others, he was well aware that there was something very wrong with him, but he had too much pride to admit it. But he knew that they'd noticed, even if they didn't know the full extent of what was going on.

Jack rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the pounding headache. It was worse than it had ever been before, and he wondered if his dread of what would happen tomorrow had anything to do with it. But he couldn't back out now. Things had gone on as they were long enough. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and was getting worse all the time. He was unable to concentrate upon anything for more than a few minutes, if that. He made life hell for those around him. He knew that Rose was worried about him, but she didn't need to be. Neither did the others. After tomorrow, he wouldn't be there. He could only hope that they would understand.

Jack glanced at the clock. It was nearly two AM now, and he thought that he might be tired enough to sleep. He started to rise, but stopped, suddenly exhausted, and glancing at the clock, he was surprised to see that ten minutes had passed. Had he fallen asleep on the floor?

He crawled into bed, still confused at the missing ten minutes. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, but then, one often didn't. He was truly exhausted this time, though, and it was with a sense of relief that he felt himself dozing off as soon as he put his head down.


	32. Into the Darkness 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Two

_Thursday, July 10, 2003_

Rose sat up in bed as the alarm went off, signaling the beginning of a new day. She hadn't slept well the night before. The nagging worries at the back of her mind wouldn't go away, but she still couldn't identify exactly what was worrying her. Her dreams had been plagued with frightening images, but she could never remember quite what they were afterwards. She only knew that something was bothering her.

She climbed out of bed, trying to shrug it off. Maybe she was just upset that Jack had walked away from her so abruptly the night before. She saw the portfolio sitting on the table where she had left it and went to take a look.

She had fallen asleep before she'd had a chance to look at it the previous night, but now she opened it, wondering what Jack had been working on. She hadn't noticed him doing much art recently, but he must have been drawing something when she wasn't looking.

Most of the drawings were old, from before the earthquake. Only three had been done more recently—one of the unpleasant nurse in the hospital, one of the earthquake-torn town, and one of her. The picture of her was the most recent one, completed only two days earlier. It showed her sitting in her car, ready to go to work, waving to someone—Rose didn't know who. Jack must have completed it when she wasn't looking.

She looked through the rest of the portfolio. All of the extra paper and art supplies were still there—he had given her everything. Rose frowned, confused. Why had he given her this? Her art skills, at least with this sort of art, were meager at best, and the portfolio had been Jack's most prized possession. Was it just that he had lost interest?

Rose set the portfolio down, anxious but unsure why, and hurried to get ready for the day.

*****

Rose came out to the kitchen about half an hour later. Helga was on her way out the door, and Tommy sat at the table, drinking coffee and reading the sports page. Jack was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Jack?" Rose asked, reaching for some cereal. Tommy glanced up at her.

"He left early. Said he had something to do at work."

"That's odd. He usually leaves at the last minute."

"I guess he's falling behind on things, and wants to finish up a project or something. I didn't ask."

Rose shook her head. "He gave me his portfolio last night."

"His portfolio? Have you decided to take up art or something?"

"No. That's the strange thing. I'm not much of an artist, and he knows it, but he gave it to me anyway."

"That's his most prized possession."

"I know. That's what makes it so strange."

"Maybe he's trying to make up for hitting you last week."

"Maybe." Rose sat down to eat, still not convinced.

*****

Jack put the finishing touches on his drawing and looked at the clock. It was almost 12:30. He signed the drawing and stood up, looking around to make sure that everything was in order. It was almost time for him to leave, and he wouldn't be coming back.

He had decided against telling his boss that this would be his last day. _It's better,_ he thought, to make it a clean break, _not let him try to talk me out of it._ They would find someone to replace him, and he would be forgotten soon enough.

He picked up the drawing and headed for his boss's cubicle, nodding to people who greeted him along the way. His heart was pounding. Did he have the nerve to do this?

"Mr. Messner?" Jack peered around the corner of the cubicle.

"Mr. Dawson. What can I do for you?"

Jack handed him the drawing, an advertisement for an upcoming street fair in Southland. "I finished this."

Messner took it, looking it over. "Much better. Your work has improved over the last week."

Jack just nodded. "Uh...Mr. Messner...I was wondering if I could take the rest of the afternoon off? I don't feel so good. I think I'm coming down with something."

"Something new, or the same old thing that's been bothering you for weeks?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably. He had tried to hide what was happening from the others at his workplace, but hadn't always been successful. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Messner sighed. "Go on. Get out of here."

"Thank you." Jack hurried away. He didn't like deceiving his boss—Messner had been very tolerant—but there wasn't much choice. He had to do what needed to be done.

*****

Rose sat at the front desk of the mental health clinic. It had been a busy day—four doctors and three therapists were working today, as well as the substance abuse counselor. The phone had been ringing off the hook, but at last things seemed to have settled down.

She glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes to one, when she usually took her lunch. Looking out at the waiting room, Rose settled back in her chair, enjoying the brief respite from the clamor.

It was all too short. The phone rang and Rose leaned forward to answer it.

"Masline Mental Health. How can I help you?"

The woman on the phone was crying so hard that Rose couldn't understand her at first. She waited patiently. This was not the first client who had called with a crisis.

"Would you like me to call a crisis counselor for you?"

The person on the end calmed down a little. "Yes. Please." Rose reached for the transfer button, but the woman went on. "I really need to talk to someone. I'm not usually like this. Please believe me. I'm just having a really hard time. My son...my son committed suicide last week. I never even saw it coming. I should have. He'd been really unhappy, and then all of a sudden he seemed a lot happier, and I thought everything was fine. Then he started giving away his things, the things that he liked best. I should have known that something was wrong, but I didn't pay attention. When I came home from work the next day, he was hanging from a rafter in the garage. It was too late for me to do anything."

Rose listened until the woman stopped talking. "Ma'am, I'm going to transfer you to Ted. He's the crisis counselor today, and he can help you with this. Okay?"

"All right." The caller was trying not to cry anymore.

Rose transferred the call, and sat back, shaken. She hated getting calls like that, but it was part of the job. Most calls were easy enough to handle, with clients calling to about appointments, or wanting to talk to a particular person. But some calls were like this one, with a very upset person on the other end of the line. Rose didn't criticize them—she couldn't help but remember the night eight months earlier when she had been so upset that she had tried to jump into the sub-basement at the library at Elias University. _If I'd known there were people I could talk to_, she thought, _it might not have come to that. But then I wouldn't have met Jack…I wouldn't be where I am now. I was lucky that someone was there to pull me back. Too many people don't have that._

Something about this call was particularly disturbing. Absently, Rose handed the sign-in sheet to another client, trying to figure out why.

She had dealt with crises before, and none of them had bothered her as much as this one. The woman's words kept echoing in her mind.

_"...all of a sudden he seemed a lot happier...he started giving away his things, the things he liked best...I should have known that something was wrong..."_

The nagging worries were suddenly brought into the forefront of Rose's mind. Suddenly a lot happier? Giving favorite possessions away? She could have been describing Jack.

Rose shook her head at the thought. It was ridiculous. Jack would never take his own life.

_And he would never hit you, either,_ her conscience nagged her, _or give away his portfolio to someone with no talent for art._

Rose felt as though she were choking. The room seemed to be closing in on her. _Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God!_ her mind screamed. _I have to get out of here. I have to stop him._ But she didn't even know for sure that that was what Jack had planned.

"Rose?"

Rose jumped, startled, as her supervisor, Maggie, came up behind her. Maggie always took her place when Rose went to lunch.

"Are you okay?" Maggie asked her. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I...I..." Rose stammered, not knowing what to say.

"Rough morning?"

Rose nodded. "I...I'm going to take lunch now."

"You usually do."

Rose got to her feet, almost pushing her supervisor out of the way. "I'll be back at two." She rushed out, her heart in her throat.

Rose hurried outside and pulled her cell phone from her purse, dialing Jack's number. There was no answer. She tried the Messner Agency, only to be informed that he had gone home sick half an hour earlier. She quickly calculated how long it would take him to drive home—about half an hour. Quickly, she called home, but there was no answer.

_Jack, where are you? What are you doing?_ her mind shouted. _Please don't do anything stupid._

Digging her keys from her purse, Rose dashed to her car, nearly knocking over one client who was coming from the parking lot. Apologizing, she raced on, her heart pounding with fear. She knew that she had to get home immediately.

*****

Jack walked slowly into the house. It was warm inside, but not as hot as outside. He closed and locked the front door behind him, then walked slowly through the house, looking at everything, before finally going to his room. The phone rang, but he ignored it.

Digging into the bottom drawer of his desk, he found the knife that he had hidden there a week earlier—the same one that Rose had gone after him with. _It's only fitting,_ he thought, _that this be the one I use_.

Taking it out, he walked slowly from the room, closing the door firmly behind him, and headed for the back door. He already knew where he was going to do this.

Jack made his way through the yard, toward a spot in the very back between an old olive tree and an orange tree. Turning to face the fence, he lifted the paring knife, watching the sunlight reflect off of it. His hands were shaking, but he couldn't stop. He had gone too far to stop now.

He looked around one last time, then brought the knife down and slashed his left wrist.

*****

Rose drove through the traffic as fast as she could, running one red light and narrowly missing hitting another car. The driver honked at her, but she paid no attention.

In half the time that it usually took her to drive home, she was there. She pulled into her usual parking space across the street from the house and leaped from the car, looking around.

Jack's car was there, parked across the street in front of the house. It was parked crookedly, as though he hadn't been paying attention to what he was doing.

Rose ran for the door, her heart pounding. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. Maybe he had just gone home sick for the day. But she couldn't take that chance. Not with what she suspected.

The front door was locked. Rose swore under her breath as she fumbled with the key, finally getting the door open.

Everything was quiet inside, but the back door was open. She headed for it, her feet pounding on the thin carpet in the living room.

Frantically, Rose looked around the yard. Where was he?

At last, she saw him. He was standing in the farthest corner, between two trees, his back to her. She saw the glint of sunlight on metal and rushed toward him.

"Jack!" she shouted, tearing across the yard.

Jack turned, startled, as Rose shouted his name, almost losing his grip on the knife. He held it in his blood-slicked left hand, and had been about to slash his right wrist when Rose had interrupted him.

"Jack!" she shouted again, coming to a stop a few feet from him. "My God, what are you doing?"

He stepped back from her. "Nothing you need to be concerned with, Rose. Just go back to work."

"No!" She stepped closer. "You're trying to kill yourself!" She looked at the blood running from his slashed wrist and soaking into the dirt. He would succeed if something wasn't done soon. "Jack, please, don't do this. Give me the knife. I'll take you to the emergency room."

"No, Rose. Just...go. Get out of here. This is for the best."

"No, it isn't!" Rose was becoming frantic. "I don't know what the problem is, but this isn't the way to solve it. I learned that myself months ago, when you talked me out of jumping." She took a deep breath. "Jack, please. You helped me then. Let me help you now."

She could see the indecision in his eyes. He wasn't sure about doing this, but he felt that he had no choice. Rose was about to make a grab for the knife, despite the risk of injury to herself, when Jack slowly held it out to her.

Rose took the blood-stained knife quickly, before he could change his mind. "Come on!" she told him, grabbing his hand when he hesitated.

Rose clamped her hand around the injured wrist, trying to slow the bleeding, as she hurried Jack into the house. She pulled him into the kitchen, ignoring the blood that dripped on the living room carpet, and pulled a couple of dish towels from a drawer, handing them to Jack.

"Wrap these around your wrist. Hurry!" she told him, grabbing a plastic bag and filling it with ice cubes from the freezer. Handing it to him, she told him, "Put this on the cut. It will help slow the bleeding." Rose was no expert, but she did know that much.

"Let's go," she said, grabbing her keys and heading for the door. She gave Jack a shove when he hesitated again. "Move! We don't have much time."

They headed out the front door to Rose's car. Rose got Jack into the passenger seat, checking to be sure the ice was on the injury, and headed for Southland, the nearest place with medical facilities.

*****

They made the trip in twenty minutes, much more quickly than usual. Rose broke every speed limit around, and was grateful that she didn't come across any cops.

They finally arrived at the emergency room at Memorial Hospital, and Rose rushed Jack inside. He was still walking, but he was beginning to get pale and dizzy from blood loss, even with the first aid Rose had applied. The nurse at the front desk took one look at the blood-soaked towels and had him sent in immediately.

Rose took her cell phone outside to tell her boss that an emergency had come up and she wouldn't be back that day, then paced around the waiting room, her thoughts whirling. _Will he be all right? Did I get him here in time to save him? Or will he die here, in the emergency room?_

Other thoughts went through her mind. _Why did he do it? He was always one of the most lively, optimistic people I know, up until he got the head injury in the earthquake. Is the head injury the cause of his strange behavior, or is it something else? Am I responsible, in some way, for his suicide attempt?_ She had recognized the knife he had used, the same one that she had chased him with the week before.

Rose finally sat down, her hands clutching the arms of the chair anxiously, another emotion beginning to make itself known—anger. Why did he do it? she wondered. _Didn't he even think about how this would the rest of us—how upset we would be, how much we would miss him? _The decision hadn't been impulsive, unlike hers. She knew that there was something wrong, but why had he chosen to take this way out, instead of talking to one of them, or seeing a doctor?

As she sat waiting, that one question kept repeating itself—why?

*****

Jack was released from the emergency room around 3:30. His severed blood vessels had been reconnected and he was free to go.

Rose looked up in surprise as Jack came up to her. "You ready to go?" he asked her.

She looked at him. His wrist was thickly bandaged where he had cut it and he still looked a little pale, but not like someone who was about to die. It was his demeanor that alarmed her.

Physically, he was all right—she had gotten him to the emergency room in time to save his life—but she recognized the far-off, depressed look that he had had so often in the past weeks. What if he tried it again?

"Excuse me," she told him, heading for the front desk. The doctor who had treated Jack was there, talking to the nurse. Rose walked up, glaring at him.

"Doctor?" She interrupted the conversation. "I have a quick question."

He gave her an annoyed look. "What is it?"

"I'm with that patient you just released—the one who tried slit his wrists—and I was wondering why you didn't admit him on a 51-50 hold. You know," she elaborated, "admit him to the psychiatric ward. I've been given to understand that that is the usual procedure for patients who seem to be a danger to themselves or others."

"I don't think he's a danger to himself."

Rose stared at him, open-mouthed. "He tried to commit suicide. He's obviously a danger to himself."

"Look, young lady, I see this all the time. Frequently, these aren't real suicide attempts. They're a way of getting attention…especially in cutters, which he has assured me he is. They'll cut too deeply, either accidentally or on purpose. He may need psychiatric help, but not emergency help, and I can't admit him without reasonable suspicion that he's actually a danger to himself. Frankly, my job is too save lives, not take care of attention-seekers who deliberately hurt themselves."

"But Jack's not…" Rose stopped when she saw that the doctor wasn't listening, then turned to glare at Jack, realizing that he was still trying to avoid the problem. "Goddamnit!" she muttered under her breath. She turned back to Jack. "Let's go," she told him, stalking out the door.

As they made their way to the car, Rose realized that she would have to find out for herself why Jack was acting like he was. It wouldn't be pleasant, but she had to find out. Something had to be done.


	33. Into the Darkness 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Three

They drove home in silence. Rose tried to speak to Jack a few times, but he ignored her, looking out the window, giving her only short, half-hearted answers. He kept his hand over his injured wrist, hiding it from anyone who might be looking.

Rose felt her temper boiling over, but she tried to remain calm. She had to drive, and it wasn't a good idea to drive while upset. The last thing either of them needed was a car accident.

Traffic was backed up several miles, making the normally forty-five minute trip take two hours. Rose sat at the steering wheel, her irritation growing by the minute.

By the time they reached the source of the traffic jam—a big rig that had gone the wrong way on the freeway and collided with a pick-up truck, destroying the smaller vehicle and its driver with it—Rose was ready to burst. They had been on the road for an hour and a half, the car overheating and Jack making a concentrated effort to shut her out. She clutched the steering wheel angrily, casting a baleful look at Jack. He ignored her, staring out his open window.

_Has the whole world gone insane?_ Rose wondered as she moved slowly into the one lane of traffic that the police and tow truck had managed to open. When someone tried to cut her off, she slammed her hand on the horn, moving the car to block them and ignoring the enraged look other driver gave her. Jack ignored the whole thing.

Rose stared out the window at the accident scene. The remains of the pick-up truck had been moved over to the side. The big rig was still blocking all three lanes, forcing traffic to move around the scene on the shoulder. Traffic was slowed further by people who stopped and stared before moving on. Rose just wanted to get home.

_It must be full moon,_ Rose thought as someone ahead of her stopped and got out to take a closer look. _Everyone is acting like they've lost their minds. First every client in the mental health clinic decides they need help right now, then Jack, who I never thought would be capable of such a thing, tries to commit suicide, and now this. One would think that the trucker would know better than to drive the wrong way on the freeway, but apparently not, just like people don't seem to understand that you can't stop in the one open lane of traffic and take a look. It's like the whole world has gone insane._

They finally got past the accident and headed for home, still a half hour's drive away. Rose set her jaw, not looking at Jack, vowing that as soon as they got home, she would get to the bottom of things.

*****

They finally reached home at 5:30. Rose pulled into her usual parking space and had to run to catch up with Jack, who seemed determined to avoid her. She followed him into the house, barely acknowledging Helga's greeting, and followed him toward the back door.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, stepping in front of him as he tried to open the door.

"Out."

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't."

"Yes, we do."

"Rose, get out of my way."

"Why? So you can go find something rip those stitches open with?"

He walked away, heading toward the front door. Helga had stopped her work and was staring at them. Rose grabbed Jack's arm, inadvertently getting hold of his injured wrist.

"Ow! Fuck! Let go!"

"Not until you talk to me!"

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Oh, yes, we do." Rose let go of his wrist, but didn't move away. "There's something wrong, and we both know it. Maybe if you'd gotten it out in the open sooner, it wouldn't have come to this." She gestured to his bandaged wrist. "Killing yourself is not the way to solve anything."

"Why don't you talk a little louder, Rose? I don't think they heard you in Mexico."

"You...you..." Rose stammered, unable to find the words.

"Why do you care, anyway? Haven't you done your good deed for today? You saved me today. Maybe tomorrow you'll—"

"My good deed? _My good deed?_ Is that why you think I came home today?"

"I don't see any other reason. You don't need me around. Why don't you go find someone else to save and leave me alone?"

Rose's temper boiled over. She was already furious, so his attitude toward his own life and toward the feelings of others was enough to send her temper spiraling out of control.

She slapped him across the face as hard as she could. "Because I love you, you idiot!" she shouted.

"This is one interesting fight."

They both looked over to see Tommy coming through the garage door into the kitchen. Glaring at him, Rose shoved Jack in the direction of the hall.

"Come with me!"

"No!"

Rose grabbed his wrist again as he tried to head for his own room. "No, down here." She headed toward her room.

"Let go!"

"Then get moving!" Rose shoved Jack into her room, following him in and slamming and locking the door behind her.

Tommy stared after them, dumbfounded. "What is going on around here?"

Helga turned to him, a shocked expression on her face. "Jack tried to commit suicide today."

Tommy could only stare at her, too stunned to say a word.

*****

Rose locked the door behind her and braced herself against it, glaring at Jack as he tried to push her aside. "I'm not moving," she told him. "Neither of us is leaving until you tell me what's going on."

"Nothing's going on."

"The hell it isn't. Suicide isn't nothing. And don't tell me you're a cutter like you told the doctor. I know damned well you aren't."

"You stopped me, remember? Everything's fine now."

"And if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you." She took a deep breath, trying to control her temper. "Did you ever even stop to think about how this would affect other people?"

"You shouldn't have stopped me. It was for the best for everyone."

"No, it wasn't!" Angry tears ran down Rose's face, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. She glowered at him. "How could you do something so stupid? Did you even stop to think about who might have found you if you'd succeeded? There's little kids behind us, and they're always climbing that fence and looking over it. What if they had found you? Do you really want to put them through that trauma? What if Helga had found you? The shock could have been too much for her in her condition. Do you want her to lose her baby?"

Jack rubbed his aching head, knowing Rose was right but unwilling to admit it. When he had made his plans, he had thought he was doing what was best. The things Rose had just mentioned had never occurred to him. "Fine." Jack glared back at her. "Next time, I'll go out where no one will find me for a while."

"There won't be a next time!" Rose approached him, half-expecting him to lash out at her, but he just turned away. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Jack, believe it or not, I do understand what it feels like to think you have no way out."

He pushed her hand away. "How would you know? You've never been in this position."

"Have you forgotten how we first met? You talked me out of jumping off the staircase landing."

"That was different. You didn't really want to kill yourself."

"Neither did you, or you wouldn't have handed that knife over to me."

He sat down on the edge of her bed, looking at the bandage wrapped around his wrist. "You had other choices, other options. You might have felt trapped, but you were able to break free. I don't have any options."

Rose sat down next to him. "Why do you say that?"

"You'd all be better off without me." Rose started to speak, but he went on. "I've caused nothing but trouble for everyone here. I can't seem to go a day without causing some sort of trouble. Just look at yourself. If I stay, I'll probably wind up hurting you again. I don't want to do that."

"If that's the way you feel, why don't you just move out?"

"It would be the same anywhere."

Rose reached for his hand. The shell was finally starting to crack. "No, it wouldn't." She paused. "Believe it or not, you really haven't caused much trouble, even if it feels like you have. I do think that you're not well, and that's what's been causing all these problems."

He was silent for a moment. Finally, he sighed. "You're right. I have been sick. I have a constant headache, I have trouble keeping food down, and I feel so nauseous most of the time that I don't want to eat anyway."

"I noticed that you managed to eat last night."

"I was forcing myself to do so, so that you wouldn't worry. And most of it came up later, anyway."

"Yuck." Rose wrinkled her nose, then went on. "You haven't been acting like yourself, either."

He sighed. "I'm not even sure what 'myself' is supposed to be."

"You used to be a lot more cheerful, and have a sense of humor. But you haven't been like that in a long time now."

"No, not since..."

"Since shortly after you came out of the coma. You seemed to rally for a few days, and then started going downhill."

"Maybe I caught something in the hospital."

"Maybe, but I have a feeling that it has more to do with that head injury. I've read some stuff about head injuries—"

"Couldn't be. The doctor said that I was healing just fine—and you're not a doctor."

"I think you need to get a second opinion." She looked at him. "Does the headache start in any one particular spot?"

He nodded. "Right here." He gestured to a spot at the back of his head, taking care not to touch it. Touch made the headache worse.

"That's where you got the skull fracture."

"Which I was told was healing."

"They may have missed something. I think you should see a doctor."

"I don't know that I can afford that. I don't have any health insurance yet, and I'm too old now for Medi-Cal."

Rose paused, remembering something she had heard about at work. "Jack, there's been emergency funds given to the hospitals by the state to help pay for the cost of treating people injured in the earthquake. It was just passed. If it turns out that this is related to the head injury you got when that concrete fell on you, it will probably be covered. It can't hurt to get it checked out."

He looked down, clenching and unclenching his hands. "All right."

"There's something else I think you should do, too."

"What?"

"Visit the mental health clinic."

"No. I'm not going there."

"Jack, you know that your behavior hasn't been...normal. They specialize in finding out why and treating these problems."

"I'm not crazy."

"Neither are most of the clients. Most just need a little assistance. Some get completely better, some don't. But things can't go on the way they have been." When he started to protest, she hushed him. "That's why you told the emergency room doctor that you were a cutter, isn't it? So he wouldn't commit you."

Jack clenched his jaw, then sighed, nodding slightly. Even though he'd seen enough to understand that mental illness wasn't the fault of the person suffering from it, that the brain could be injured or diseased just like any other part of the body, he had grown up with the feeling that it was a sign of weakness—and he hated seeming weak. "I don't know that it's such a good idea. I have enough trouble without something like that in my background," he argued, knowing even as he said it that Rose wouldn't accept it—and Rose was nothing if not strong-willed when it came to getting her way.

"It's entirely confidential, unless you say otherwise, or unless you're a threat to yourself or someone else. And even then, the information only goes to certain people, and they have confidentiality laws, too. We make an effort to ensure that no one outside the clinic has access to your information. The chart room is locked at night, and all of the charts are kept in locked file cabinets. There are computer files, but they're protected by passwords and firewalls and access levels. There's probably quite a number of Jack Dawsons in the world, so someone who hacked into those files wouldn't be able to be sure it was you. You can even use an alias if you like. Some people do."

He looked down, considering. "I'm still not so sure it's a good idea. My criminal records from before I turned eighteen are supposed to be confidential, too, but those are constantly getting uncovered."

"These records are a little different. You don't have as many identifying items listed. You don't even have to give your real name."

Jack ran his fingers over his bandaged wrist, still thinking. "All right. I'll do it. Just...when I go in there, don't let anyone know that you know me. Okay? I don't want any more people to know about this than necessary."

Rose nodded. "I won't tell anyone." She put her arms around him. "Jack, I'm glad that you're finally trying to do something about this. We've all been worried about you."

"I know. My boss even asked if it was something new or the same thing when I asked for the afternoon off."

Rose hugged him tighter. "Your boss is smart." She turned Jack's face to look at her. "Jack, I think you've had more than your fair share of stress these past couple of months. Not just the head injury, but getting arrested for something you didn't do, the earthquake, getting shot, losing some of your best friends...it's a lot to deal with."

"You're right, it is." Jack's voice cracked. He tried to pull away from her, looking around the room, at his hands, anywhere except at her.

Rose pulled him back to her. "Jack, it's all right," she told him, putting a hand to his face.

A tear slipped down his cheek. "No, it's not," he told her, wiping quickly at his eyes.

"Yes, it is." Rose pulled him close, embracing him tightly.

Jack put his arms around her, putting his head on her shoulder. "Help me, Rose," he whispered. "I…I don't think I can survive this alone."

Rose rubbed his back gently, feeling his body shaking with quiet sobs as he finally released some of the built-up tension. She didn't say anything, but only held him close, letting him cry.

At last, he calmed down. "I'm sorry," he told her, lifting his head.

"Don't be." Rose looked at him. "Sometimes it helps to let it out. I've been overwhelmed a few times myself."

"I know you have." He rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you, Rose."

"For what?"

"For...for finally talking some sense into me. And for stopping me this afternoon." He kissed her softly. "I love you, Rose."

"You're welcome." Rose's eyes softened. "I love you, too, Jack."

They embraced again, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. After a moment, they broke apart, still holding each other close.

"Dinner should be ready by now," Rose told him, glancing at her clock. "Do you want to try to eat something?"

He hesitated. "I'll try. A little bit, anyway."

Rose got up. "Hold on a minute." She disappeared into the bathroom, coming out with two small glass jars.

"Mari gave these to me," she told him, handing him the jars. "She bought these on sale and decided to share. This one is ginger. It's very good for calming an upset stomach. It's been used that way for thousands of years, at least according to Mari. Take two of them when your stomach starts to get upset. It might help. And this," she pointed to the other jar, "is valerian. It calms you and helps you sleep. I used it right after the earthquake, when I was exhausted but was so upset that I kept having nightmares and trouble falling asleep."

"How do you know I'm having trouble sleeping?"

"You fall asleep on my shoulder almost every night. Also, sometimes I've heard you pacing the hall." She paused. "Take two of these before you go to bed at night. And don't bite them. Mari says they smell like dirty socks."

"Okay." He stood, holding onto the two jars. Rose turned to pick up something else.

"Here's your portfolio," she told him, handing it to him.

He refused to take it. "It's yours, Rose. I gave it to you."

"Jack..." Rose shook her head. "I don't have much artistic talent. I really can't use this. If you want to give me something, why don't you make me another one of your drawings? I could even pose for you, if you like."

"Maybe later." He took the portfolio, opening it and pulling out the drawing he had made of her in her car. "At least keep this."

Rose took it, nodding. "Thank you, Jack." She set it carefully on the table, then turned to him, hugging him again. "It's going to be all right. I know it is."


	34. Into the Darkness 7

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Four

Jack and Rose made their way down the hall to the kitchen in silence, still holding hands. Tommy and Helga were sitting at the table, eating. Dinner was halfway over, but Helga had decided against disturbing them.

She waved to their places at the table, where plates of food had been set, now growing cold. "Have a seat."

They settled into their places, looking at their plates. Rose dug into her dinner, but Jack, as usual, picked at his. Helga hadn't served him much, knowing that he probably wouldn't eat it, but he did make an effort this time. At Rose's prompting, he swallowed two of the ginger capsules, then pushed anything resembling rich food out of the way on his plate and nibbled at the vegetables. Rose glanced at him, but didn't say anything. At least he was making an effort to eat now.

If Tommy and Helga noticed his red eyes, they didn't say anything, but they did cast surreptitious glances at his bandaged wrist, almost bursting with curiosity about just what had happened. Finally, Jack decided to enlighten them.

Looking up, he held his fork in tightly clenched fingers. "I've no doubt you've already heard about what happened today."

"You and Rose were arguing pretty loudly," Helga commented, avoiding his eyes.

He clenched his jaw. "In response to what you've heard, yes, I did try to…uh…commit suicide today."

"Why?" Tommy wanted to know.

"I...I just..." He shrugged. "I can't explain it." Much as he liked his friends, he couldn't talk to them in the same way he could talk to Rose. There was a certain level of closeness and understanding with Rose that didn't exist with the others. "But I'm not going to try it again."

He didn't notice the look of relief on Rose's face when he said this. The possibility that he would attempt suicide again had worried her, but she doubted now that he would try it. Not after promising everyone that he wouldn't.

The rest of the meal passed in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Tommy and Helga didn't quite know what to say to Jack. Neither of them had ever faced this situation before with a friend. Helga had seen patients who were suicidal, but it was a very different situation when it was a friend. It was harder to know how to act with a friend than with a patient.

After dinner, Jack and Rose retired to the living room to watch television. Jack had managed to eat about half of his dinner, though he felt a little nauseous, but he thought that Rose had been right. The ginger did help. He had had an easier time eating than he had in a long time. The two of them settled onto the well-worn couch and turned on the television, while Helga cleaned up the kitchen and Tommy went out to collect the mail.

By the time Helga and Tommy joined them, Jack was stretched out on the couch asleep, his head in Rose's lap. The events of the day, combined with the lack of sleep over the past few weeks, had exhausted him, so he slept quietly, undisturbed by the sound of the television or the occasional laughter from the others.

Rose woke him just after nine. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"Jack, come on. It's time for bed," Rose told him, helping him sit up.

Sleepily, he got up, yawning, and followed Rose down the hall. They stopped for a moment outside his room, embracing. Rose kissed him, promising that she would stop in to say good night before she went to bed herself.

About ten minutes later, Rose knocked on Jack's door, carrying a glass of water with her. "Jack?"

"Come in, Rose."

Rose opened the door. Jack was sitting on the edge of his bed, just wearing his boxer shorts. He was examining the bottle of valerian capsules critically.

"Are you sure these are safe? I've heard of ginger before, but not valerian."

Rose thought it was an interesting question, coming from someone who had tried to kill himself earlier, but didn't say so. "They're safe. I've taken them, and I'm still alive." She set the glass of water on the dresser and took the bottle from him, turning around to the trash can while she pried off the plastic seal and opened the bottle, extracting two capsules. She set the bottle on the dresser beside the ginger and turned back to him.

Jack stared blankly at her. Rose came closer, but he didn't move.

"Jack?" she asked. Then, louder, "Jack!"

He didn't move, but continued staring straight ahead, his eyes blank, his muscles rigid.

Rose shook him, to no avail. Setting the water and capsules back on the dresser, she ran to the next room, where Helga was just slipping into bed.

"Helga!" she called, knocking on the door.

A moment later, Helga opened the door, staring at Rose's frightened face. "What is it?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"Something's wrong with Jack. He's just sitting there, staring into space."

Helga hurried into Jack's room. He was still sitting there, unmoving. She waved a hand in front of his eyes, but he didn't respond. Quickly, she checked his pulse; then, with Rose's help, she moved him to lie flat on his bed.

"What's wrong with him?" Rose asked, still frightened.

"He's having a seizure," Helga told her, checking Jack's temperature. It was normal.

"A seizure?" Rose was confused. "I thought that when a person had a seizure, their muscles jerked and they fell on the floor, and swallowed their tongues, and—"

"That's one kind of seizure. There's other kinds, including when a person just blanks out, like this one. Hopefully he'll come out of it soon. And," she added, looking reassuringly at Rose, "people who have seizures do not swallow their tongues. They can't. The tongue is firmly attached to the mouth. They might bite it, though."

"Will he be okay?"

Helga nodded. "He should be. He doesn't appear to be having any complications. He's breathing fine, his heart rate is fine, and he's laying quietly, so he can't injure himself if he comes out of it suddenly."

"Has he ever had seizures before?"

"Not that I know of," Helga replied slowly, "but head injuries are known to cause seizures, and he's had a bad one."

"You're right, he has." Rose hesitated. "Shouldn't we call an ambulance?"

"Well…" Helga frowned. "Ordinarily, I would say yes, but…I'm guessing he'll already have a good-sized bill from the emergency room. Since he doesn't seem to be in danger…we'll just keep an eye on him."

Jack came out of it about five minutes later. He stared up at them, confused. "What happened?" he asked.

"You had a seizure," Helga explained.

"I did? When?"

"Just now. You blanked out," Rose explained, helping him sit back up. "Has this happened before?"

He tried to think. "I don't know...maybe."

"Maybe?"

"It was kind of like I blanked out last night, around two AM. I was going back to bed, when I looked at the clock and realized that ten minutes had passed. I thought I might have fallen asleep, but maybe it was a seizure. I don't know."

"But it hasn't happened earlier?"

He shook his head. "No…not that I noticed, anyway."

"It may be the head injury causing this," Helga told him. "You really need to get it checked by a doctor."

"I will," he replied, sighing. "Rose talked me into it."

"Good." Helga stood up. "I'm going to bed now. If anything happens, wake me."

"Okay." Rose sat down beside Jack, taking the capsules and water from the top of the dresser. Helga left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"How do you feel?" Rose asked him, offering him the valerian capsules and water.

He shook his head, taking the water from her. "Tired."

"I've heard that people like to sleep after a seizure."

He swallowed the valerian. "I did last night. Maybe that was a seizure."

"Maybe. I hope, whatever is going on, that you feel better soon, and can find out why this is happening."

"I do, too." He lay back down, pulling the sheet over himself. It was too hot for any other covers.

Rose was still sitting beside him. She massaged his shoulders, helping him to relax.

"I'm sorry, Rose," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Her hands stilled. "What about?"

"For causing so much trouble for everyone."

She leaned close, whispering in his ear. "You're not causing that much trouble. We all need a little help sometimes." She paused. "Why don't you take tomorrow off from work and come down to the mental health clinic? Call your boss and tell him you're sick."

"I told him that today when I left."

"Well, then, you could tell him you're still sick. You could come into the clinic—it may take a while for you to get in, depending upon how many people are there, but tomorrow there are only two doctors working, so there'll be fewer people. It's easier than calling to make an appointment, since sometimes the therapists who are supposed to call you back don't. You'll just be there as a crisis patient. Considering what happened today, I think it's a good idea. And you can call a regular doctor with the county and make an appointment to get that head injury checked out." She pulled the sheet up over his shoulders. "Right now, though, I think you need to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay," he mumbled, half-asleep. "Night, Rose."

"Good night, Jack. I love you," she whispered. She sat beside him a moment longer, waiting until his breathing grew deep and even, before she slowly got to her feet and left the room, turning out the light as she went.


	35. Into the Darkness 8

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Five**

Jack walked slowly into the Masline Mental Health Clinic, hoping that no one other than Rose would recognize him. He had tried to disguise his appearance with sunglasses and a baseball cap, but he still worried that someone would recognize him and tell others that he had been there.

He had called his boss that morning and told him that he was still too sick to work. Messner had sighed and suggested, not-so-subtly, that he see a doctor. Jack had decided to do just that, but he was growing tired of people telling him that over and over.

He walked up to the front desk, looking around to see if anyone was watching him. Only a few other people were in the waiting room at the moment, and most ignored him, except for a little girl who stared at him before going back to her coloring book. He wondered if he looked bad enough to scare a child.

Rose was sitting at the front desk, typing something into the computer. She glanced up as he approached and gave him a reassuring look, but spoke as thought she didn't know him.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes. I...uh...I'm kind of having a...uh...crisis, I think it's called."

Rose nodded, suppressing a smile. He really wanted to keep a low profile.

"Here. Fill out these forms," she told him, handing him a stack of papers and a pen. "There's clipboards over there. Oh, and before you do that, I'll need you to sign in."

Jack looked a little alarmed. He hadn't expected to have to sign in, where other people might see his name. Rose saw his look and whispered, "Use an alias," before handing him the sign-in sheet.

He thought quickly, then wrote down the first name that occurred to him—Jacob DeWitt. It was close enough to his name that he wouldn't forget it. He only hoped that Rose wouldn't be too upset with him for borrowing part of her name.

Rose raised an eyebrow at his alias, but didn't comment. She just pushed the papers through the window. "All right, Jacob, fill out these forms. Bring them back when you're done, and I'll call someone to talk to you."

"Okay." Jack took the forms and a clipboard and sat down to fill them out.

There was an incredible amount of paperwork, especially for someone having a crisis. He wondered what they would do if someone came in openly threatening suicide or homicide. Hopefully they wouldn't ask them to fill out paperwork first, but one could never tell with government run services. They seemed to have a great fondness for paperwork.

He looked over the forms. One asked about his drug use history, another about his financial situation, a third about his contact information, and the last about his personal and family medical history.

He filled out the contact information sheet first, using his pseudonym, along with his real address and telephone number. He listed Rose as his emergency contact, since she was the only one who knew his alias.

The drug use information paper asked about his use of all substances considered to be drugs, both legal and illegal. It didn't take him long to fill that out. The only drug he had ever used illegally was tobacco, since he had smoked as a teenager, but he had quit after he was sent to juvenile hall. As to any other habit-forming substances, he had only used alcohol, and that only occasionally. He had also had a couple of doses of morphine in the hospital, but had been taken off of it before he could become addicted. The only other medicines he had used were prescription medications when he was sick, the occasional over-the-counter painkiller or cold medicine, and the herbs Rose had given him.

The financial form asked about his monthly income, how many dependents he had, and how many court-ordered expenses he had, such as alimony or child support. He had what he thought to be a reasonably good income, approximately eighteen hundred dollars a month, at least for someone who had no dependents other than himself. He had no court-ordered expenses, either, as he had never been married, had no children, and had managed to avoid going into debt.

The medical history form was the hardest to fill out. He knew most of his own history—he had rarely been ill prior to his injuries following the earthquake, and the only notable illnesses he had had as a child were a case of measles when he was nine, a new strain that he had not yet been vaccinated against, and a case of hypothermia at age twelve, caused by falling through thin ice on Lake Wissota, near to where he had grown up. The problem was that he didn't know as much about his parents' medical history. It had never occurred to him to ask them about such things, and he had no idea how to obtain the information now. He knew that his father had been near-sighted, and that his mother had been unable to bear anymore children after he was born, but he didn't know anything else. They had both been healthy when they died. It was the fire that had killed them, not any disease.

He thought about that for a moment as he brought the completed forms up to the front desk. It had been just over seven years since they had died. The fire had been started by some illegal fireworks that a neighbor had been setting off just before midnight on the Fourth of July. Some sparks had flown into a pine tree next to the house, and the fire had taken hold and spread before anyone could stop it. Jack had been downstairs, rummaging through the refrigerator, and been able to escape through the kitchen window, but his parents had been upstairs sleeping, and they had been trapped. The dry, brittle wood of the old house had gone up so fast that nothing could be done. He had tried to go back inside to see if he could find them, but the firefighters had restrained him, knowing that there was nothing he could do. By the time the fire had been put out, they were gone.

He handed the papers back through the window to Rose. She glanced over them, them placed them upside down on the desk. "I'll call Gabriela for you. She's on duty this morning. Just have a seat."

He nodded and returned to his seat, looking around the room at the few clients, the box of outdated magazines that were expected to distract people kept waiting, and the television in one corner, which was showing some old animated movie. None of it interested him. He shuffled his feet impatiently, wondering what could be taking so long.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, a heavy-set, middle-aged Hispanic woman opened the door and called for him.

"Jacob?"

It took Jack a moment to remember that she was referring to him. He got up and walked over to her, pulling his baseball cap lower over his face.

"I'm Gabriela," she told him, gesturing for him to come through the door. "Why don't you come back here with me?"

Jack followed her to an office at the end of the hall. They stepped inside, Gabriela closing the door behind her. "Have a seat," she told him, gesturing to a chair beside the desk.

Jack sat down, wondering what was going to happen. He had never been to any kind of psychiatric clinic before, and had little idea of what to expect.

She looked over the forms he had filled out, reading them over. "Jacob DeWitt. You were born June 19, 1981?"

He nodded. "Right."

She read further, looking over his financial information, his medical history, and his contact information, raising an eyebrow at Rose's name on the form. She looked over the drug use form, and then returned her attention to the medical form.

"You suffered a head injury recently?"

"Yes. My girlfriend thinks it might be why I've been acting so strange. She's the one who suggested I come here."

"Have you seen a regular doctor?"

"I was in the hospital for a month following the injury. I got hit on the head with a piece of concrete from an earthquake-damaged building."

"And did they think you were healing?"

"Yes, but they might have been wrong. Sometimes that happens."

"I would suggest that you see a regular doctor, in addition to coming here."

"I will." He sighed.

"I take it you've heard that before?"

"Yeah. Four times, now. I'll go see a regular doctor. Please don't tell me again."

"All right." She looked at the form again. "You also got shot, and broke your leg, at around the same time."

"Uh-huh. My girlfriend's ex-fiancé shot me in the back."

"How did you feel about that?"

Jack looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "I hate that fucking bastard—even more than I did before he shot me. After what he did to her…" He stopped. "Never mind. If she wants you to know, she'll tell you. As to being shot, it hurt like hell, and I was in a coma for three days after I got the head injury, which wouldn't have happened if he hadn't shot me."

Gabriela looked a bit confused. "I'm not sure I see the connection."

"Maybe I should just try to explain everything from the beginning."

She nodded. "Go ahead."

He took a deep breath, then explained about how Rose had broken things off with Cal, and how Cal had subsequently framed him for the theft of the Rose's engagement ring. He went on to tell her that he had broken out of jail, leaving out Rose's part in it and saying only that he had met her downtown, then told her how they had confronted Cal on their way back through town, ending with the shooting. He told her about how they had been trapped in the collapsed buildings, how he had been injured, and the problems that had developed after the injury.

"It sounds like you've had a lot of stress these past couple of months."

"Yeah, but I don't think I'm supposed to react to it this way. Getting so upset over things is stupid—"

"It's not stupid if it means something to you."

He looked at her disbelievingly. "I lost my parents in a fire seven years ago and I didn't react this way. Of course, I wasn't hurt in the fire, but still…"

"There's also a possibility that your head injury may be causing this erratic behavior. There's a condition called post-concussion syndrome that can cause odd behavior following a head injury. It's also possible that you may have had some complications that the doctor didn't catch."

"I have been sick. I had a seizure last night."

"Did you go to the emergency room?"

"No. One of my roommates is a nurse, and she said that I was okay after I came out of it."

"If it happens again, go to the emergency room."

"It's too expensive."

"Which is more important—your money or your life? People have died from seizures. Your roommate may be a nurse, but you need to see a doctor if you have another seizure."

"I think I've had two, actually. I didn't die from either one…obviously."

Gabriela sighed. "I can't force you to seek medical care if you have a seizure, but that is what I recommend. All right? Now, let's move on. You've also had some legal trouble."

"It wasn't the first time, either. I spent eight months in juvenile hall."

Gabriela nodded, making a note of that. "You seem to be putting a lot of emphasis on the earthquake. Did you lose anyone, or wind up homeless for a time following it?"

"My home came through it okay, but I lost two friends, including my best friend. We'd been through everything together the past couple of years, and...it was kind of hard to deal with him dying all of a sudden."

She nodded sympathetically. "You also said that your parents are deceased. Do you have any other family?"

He shrugged. "Just an uncle and some cousins in Wisconsin. I haven't seen them in years, and my uncle can't stand me. Once in a while I get an e-mail from my cousin Emmaline, but that's it."

She put the papers in a folder. "Jacob, I'm going to set you up for an appointment with one of the psychiatrists. I also want you to meet with me again in about two weeks. Can you do that?"

He hesitated, still not sure this was a good idea. "I can try. I need to work, though."

"There's another therapist, Ted, who works weekends. There's also two psychiatrists who work weekends. Would that work out a little better?"

"I think so." He shrugged. "I'll give it a try."

As they got up to leave, Jack had one more comment for her. "Please don't repeat anything I've said to Rose."

"I won't say anything, though there's no guarantee she won't read your chart."

He sighed, reminding himself to be careful what he said about her. "I guess that's a risk I'll have to take. She might not like me repeating some stuff, but if it doesn't get out, she probably won't be too upset." He followed her out to the waiting room.

Gabriela went to the front desk and asked the woman working there, Maggie, to schedule two appointments for him, one with Ted for two weeks and one with Dr. Lobb, one of the psychiatrists, for the coming Saturday.

After they had given him his appointment cards, Jack hurried out, wanting to leave as soon as he could. He had just stepped out the door and headed for his car when he saw Rose walking from the fast food restaurant next door, a bag in her hand.

She saw him and gestured to him to follow her around the building, where they could talk in private.

"How did it go?" she asked him, leaning against the wall and opening the bag.

Jack stepped away from her, trying to avoid the smell of food. "Okay, I guess. I talked to the counselor, and she set me up with appointments with a therapist and one of the psychiatrists."

"Which ones?"

He consulted the cards. "The therapist is Ted, who works on Saturdays."

Rose nodded. "Ted is good. He has a lot of compassion. Who's the psychiatrist?"

"Dr. Lobb."

She grimaced. "I wish you luck. He thinks he's God."

"Great."

"Just try to ignore his ego. He makes Cal look humble."

"Just what I need."

Rose closed the bag. The smell of food was giving him a distinctly sick look. "Have you made an appointment with a doctor yet?"

"Yeah. Someone at the Southland Medical Center—which is where I'll go once I've worked long enough to earn health insurance—had an opening today, so I have an appointment at three."

"That's good. I hope you feel better soon."

"You're not the only one."

*****

Jack walked slowly into the waiting room at the Southland Medical Center, making his way around a man in a wheelchair who was blocking the corridor. There were a few people there, but the waiting room was not overly crowded in mid-afternoon.

It was only about a ten-minute wait before the nurse called him into the office. She took his weight, which had fallen alarming low for someone as tall as him—he was down to one hundred and ten pounds. His blood pressure was also high—one fifty over ninety, which was mildly elevated, possibly as a result of the stress he had been under. In addition, his pulse rate was higher than it should have been—ninety beats a minute.

The doctor came in a few minutes later. "Hello…Jack. What seems to be the problem?" he asked, glancing at his chart.

"I'm sick," he told him. "I have persistent headaches, I can't keep much food down, I feel nauseous all the time, and I had a seizure last night."

"Well, let's see if I can find out what the problem is." The doctor performed the usual examination, checking Jack's heart, lungs, and throat, then gestured to his bandaged wrist. "What happened there?"

"I cut one of my wrists yesterday."

The doctor looked a bit shocked, but proceeded to unwrap the bandage and check on the wound. "There doesn't appear to be any sign of infection."

"I've been trying to keep it clean. I…uh…I'm a cutter sometimes."

The doctor looked at him, noting the lack of scars. Jack saw the look and gritted his teeth, trying to decide whether or not to tell the truth.

"Okay, fine. I admit it. I'm not a cutter. I tried to commit suicide yesterday…but I changed my mind. I went to see a psychiatrist this morning, so you don't need to lock me up or anything."

"A 51-50 hold."

"Right…that's what my girlfriend called it."

"As long as you're not actively suicidal, there's no need to commit you."

The doctor pulled out a small flashlight and peered into Jack's eyes, then began examining the rest of his head. "Where do the headaches start?"

"Right here." Jack pointed to the spot. "Right where I got that skull fracture."

He began examining the spot, his fingers probing. Jack jerked his head away as pain exploded through it, a wave of nausea washing over him.

"Hold still—"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Jack told him, clapping a hand over his mouth. The doctor grabbed an emesis basin and held it out to him.

Afterwards, Jack sat holding his head, trying to stop it from pounding. The doctor gave him a paper cup of water to rinse his mouth out with, then picked up his chart.

"That skull fracture didn't heal very well," he told him. "I'm going to refer you to the neurologist, Dr. Kordel. I think your illness may be related to your head injury. Wait here a moment, while I call to set up an appointment."

Jack sat quietly, waiting, hoping desperately that they would soon figure out what the problem was and find a treatment. If the problem wasn't found and treated soon, it would kill him.

*****

The following Monday, Jack went into Dr. Kordel's office at eight o'clock. He had told his roommates what was going on and had talked to Rose in more detail, but he still didn't know for sure what was happening. He was still sick, and was only getting worse. He was able to sleep at night now, mainly because he didn't have the strength to stay awake. He also spent a good portion of the day sleeping if he could. He had had another seizure yesterday, which had scared Rose more than it had scared him, and had slept for hours afterward, refusing to even consider going to the emergency room. His strength was failing fast. He didn't know how much longer he could keep going. He struggled through each day, and it was only Rose's care and concern that kept him from giving up entirely.

Dr. Kordel examined the skull fracture, then took X-rays and ran a CAT scan. When the tests were done, he called Jack back into his office to give him the diagnosis.

Showing Jack the test results, he told him, "You have a subdural hematoma brought on by a bone fragment that punctured an artery."

"What?" Jack looked at him in confusion, not understanding the medical terminology.

"It means you have a blood clot pressing against your brain, causing the personality changes, the headaches, and the nausea. The skull fracture never healed completely, contributing to the problem."

"Can it be treated?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"In most cases, certain drugs would be administered that would cause the brain to reabsorb the blood, or a needle would be inserted to remove the clot. However, in your case, the problem was caused by the bone fragment piercing the artery, causing a slow leakage of blood. The fragment itself is blocking most of the puncture, but your blood pressure is high and it appears that blood is still leaking. The fragment needs to be removed and the artery repaired, as well as removing the blood clot."

"So how is it going to be treated?"

"I recommend surgery, as soon as possible."

"Brain surgery!?" Jack stared at him, his eyes wide.

"That's the only viable treatment."

"Is it really that bad? Couldn't those medicines help?"

"If I thought that it was only the hematoma causing the problem, I wouldn't hesitate to go the easier route. However, with that bone fragment embedded in the artery, it's only a matter of time before it is either dislodged or the damaged artery bursts from the strain. Either way, you're likely to have a debilitating or fatal stroke."

Jack sat there for a moment, stunned by the news. "How much chance of a stroke? And how soon?"

"I would say about a ninety percent chance within the next month. The sooner you go in for surgery, the better."

"What's the risk from the surgery?"

"You have about a seventy-five percent chance of surviving, with some risk of further brain damage."

"Am I in good enough health for this?"

"Quite frankly, no. But this is a very dangerous situation. I don't really see that you have much of a choice if you want to survive."

Jack sat for a moment, weighing the risks. He was in poor health, and he knew it. But if there was any chance he would get better, he was willing to take it. "All right. How soon?"

"I'll call Memorial Hospital right now and find out how soon you can be fitted in."

Jack sat quietly, half-listening to the doctor. He had to admit that the prospect of brain surgery, of the possibility of further damage, scared him. He'd had so much trouble over the past couple of months that he didn't know if he could take anymore. But he couldn't bring himself to give up and let fate take its course. The same strength that had kept him going over the years, the strength that had allowed him to let Rose save his life, wouldn't let him give up now. In spite of everything, deep down inside he wanted to live.

Dr. Kordel hung up the phone and wrote something down on a card. "I have you scheduled to come into Memorial Hospital on Friday morning at six o'clock."

"This Friday?"

"This Friday. The procedure will probably take six to eight hours."

"How long will I have to stay in the hospital?"

"A minimum of three weeks, depending upon how well you come through it."

Jack was silent a moment, thinking. "All right. I just hope that my boss will understand."

"You'll probably be eligible for disability while you're not working, and since it is an earthquake-related injury, the cost of your medical care will probably be covered by the state."

"I hope so. I don't know if I can afford this, especially if I lose my job."

"If your employer fires you for taking necessary time off for medical purposes, you may be able to sue."

"I'd rather not, if I can avoid it." Jack stood, tucking the card into his pocket.

"Good luck."

"Thanks." Jack left the office, hoping that this time everything would turn out all right.


	36. Into the Darkness 9

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Six

_Thursday, July 17, 2003_

Rose navigated her car into its usual space across the street from the house and got out. The hot summer sun beat down on her as she crossed the street and headed up the walkway.

Jack was already home, she noticed with a bit of surprise. He usually got home after she did, but his car was in its space in front of the curb. She frowned, hoping nothing was wrong.

The house was cooler than the yard, though it was still warm. The air conditioner had broken the week before, and they hadn't gotten it fixed yet. Rose slipped quietly through the front door, heading down the hall. She paused at Jack's room, knocking on the door.

"Jack? Are you in there?" She opened the door and looked inside.

Jack sat up in bed, looking at her drowsily. He was still fully clothed, and, despite the heat, was covered with a heavy blanket and a bedspread.

"You're home early. Is everything okay?"

He shrugged. "Not really."

"What happened? How long have you been home?"

"I came home around eleven. I had a seizure at work, and Messner told me to go home and come back when I was healthy."

"At least he told you to come back."

"He'd already told me that my job would still be there if I was capable of returning. I won't be paid for the time I'm gone, but I applied for disability for a short time, so I should be okay."

"How did he know you'd had a seizure?"

"It happened at a staff meeting. I blanked out in front of all my co-workers."

Rose shook her head. "That must have been embarrassing."

"No kidding. Even though my heart didn't stop, someone tried to give me CPR."

Rose shook her head. "Wonderful."

"At least they tried, even though all I needed was to be left alone. My boss took me aside and excused me from work, and then I went out and slept in the car for an hour before coming home."

"Have you been sleeping all day?"

"Pretty much. I'm tired."

He lay back down, pulling the covers over himself. He was shivering slightly, even in the summer heat, and Rose noticed again how thin he was. He looked almost emaciated, and just didn't have the resources to keep warm. It must have been eighty-five degrees in the room, but he was still shivering.

"Have you eaten anything today? I noticed you didn't eat breakfast."

"I tried to eat an apple while I was working this morning, but it didn't stay down."

Rose wrinkled her nose, looking at him with concern. "Would you like me to fix you something? Some dry toast or something?"

He shook his head. "I haven't been able to keep down anything solid since yesterday."

"Did you try the ginger?"

"Yes. It doesn't help. I had some water at noon, though."

"Try to eat something anyway. You need it."

"I can't have anything for twelve hours before my surgery, and that's scheduled for six o'clock tomorrow morning."

"I know. I'm driving you over there. But it's only 5:30 now. Let me fix you some dry toast and some ginger Sprite."

"Some ginger what?"

"Ginger Sprite. It's Sprite with a teaspoon of ginger added."

"Is this another one of your friend Mari's concoctions?"

"No. This is my grandmother's substitute for ginger ale. She likes ginger ale, but she invented this for a party when the store was out of ginger ale and decided she liked it better. She used to give it to me every time I visited her when I was a little girl. I thought it was wonderful."

"Just a little bit, okay? I don't feel very well."

"You don't look very good, either. You've lost more weight."

"A couple of pounds."

"You're much too thin." She shook her head. "I hope that surgery works. You'll starve if you can't start eating again soon."

"If I don't have a stroke first."

"Try not to think about that." She kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? Just try to rest." She left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Helga came in as Rose walked around the kitchen, finding the bread, Sprite, and ginger. Helga looked tired, but went down to check on Jack when Rose told her where he was.

Rose sighed tiredly as she put the bread in the toaster and mixed the ginger into the soda. Jack's illness was taking a toll on all of them. He tried not to be a burden, but he was seriously ill, and the other members of the household were worried about him, Rose more than anyone.

She placed the toast on a small plate and picked up the glass of soda, heading for his room. In contrast to earlier times, when Jack had had trouble sleeping, he now slept fourteen hours a day, getting up to go to work and to try to eat. He tried to participate in the regular activities of the household, but he simply wasn't strong enough. Most evenings he sprawled out on the couch and slept for most of the evening until Rose would wake him. She had appointed herself his caretaker, something that he no longer objected to, and the strain and the worry were wearing her out. Jack tried to downplay how serious things were, but it had gotten to the point where he could no longer hide it. If the surgery didn't work, or if something went wrong during it, he would probably die.

"Jack?" Rose knocked on the door, opening it quietly. Helga was sitting beside him, talking in a low voice. She shook her head and stood, heading for the door.

"What were you two talking about?" Rose asked, helping Jack to sit up and giving him the tray.

"She was trying to convince me to go into the hospital early."

"She's been trying to convince you of that all week." She sat down next to him. "Do you want to go early? I'll take you over there if you do."

He shook his head. "No. I don't think a few extra hours will make any difference, and...and I may never come out of there. I don't want to go there just yet."

Rose nodded, understanding. She thought about the cold, sterile hospital, with its busy, overworked staff, and knew that if there were a possibility that she would die soon, she would not want to spend her last few hours there.

"All right," she told him. "Try to eat this, okay?"

Jack looked at the food before him. He felt nauseous and didn't want to eat, but at the same time, his starving body craved nourishment. He took a sip of the soda, feeling the ginger soothe his stomach slightly, and nibbled cautiously on the toast.

Rose sat beside him until he was finished. "How do you feel?" she asked him, taking the tray.

He moved slowly, getting out of bed. "I'm just tired right now, is all."

"Maybe you should stay in bed, then."

"No. I've had enough of this place for now. I'll come out there with you."

"It's probably about time for dinner. Do you want to sit at the table with us?"

"I suppose."

"Do you think you can tolerate the smell of food?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to try."

"Okay." Rose took the plate to the kitchen, Jack trailing along behind her.

Jack sat with them at the table that evening, fighting off his exhaustion, headache, and nausea, knowing that this could be the last time they would all be together like this. He didn't eat, but he tried to participate in the conversation, talking about neutral subjects and carefully skirting around anything related to his upcoming surgery.

Later, after spending the rest of the evening dozing on the couch, his head in Rose's lap, he told the others good night. He and Rose would be leaving for the hospital very early in the morning, and he didn't know if Tommy or Helga would be awake when they left. He might not see them again, he realized, as he fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams haunted by images of the past.

*****

Rose rolled over restlessly, looking at the clock for the third time in as many minutes. It was past midnight, and, despite her tiredness, she hadn't been able to fall asleep. She knew that she had to be up at 4:30, but her anxiety over Jack was keeping her from sleeping.

Finally, she decided that trying to rest was useless and got up. Slipping on her robe, she made her way down to the kitchen, deciding to make herself some hot cocoa. That had always helped her fall asleep before.

The house was quiet, so Rose tried not to make too much noise. She was sitting at the table, sipping her drink, when Jack came into the kitchen.

Rose looked up in surprise. "Did I wake you?" she asked, setting the cup aside.

"No." Jack rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I was having trouble sleeping, and I heard someone moving around out here, so I got up."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make that much noise."

"You didn't. I just can't sleep."

"Me, neither," Rose told him. "I made myself some cocoa, because that usually helps me sleep." She took another sip. "Do you want some?" she asked before she thought about it.

Jack shook his head. "I'm not allowed to drink anything right now."

"That's right. I forgot." She took another sip, then set the cup aside again. "Maybe you should go back to bed. You need the sleep."

"I'll be doing plenty of sleeping later."

"Well, as Helga would undoubtedly say, general anesthesia isn't exactly normal sleep."

"I don't think I can sleep right now."

Rose stood, setting her cup on the counter. "Why don't we go outside? That way we can talk and not disturb anyone."

They slipped quietly out the back door, walking in silence to a crooked bench that the previous tenant had built and left behind. Sitting down, Rose snuggled closer to Jack, putting her arms around him.

"I hope everything goes well tomorrow," she told him.

"I do, too. And it's today, actually."

"Right."

He hugged her. "I can't believe I tried to kill myself last week. Now, I want to live, and I'm not sure that's going to happen."

"How is your wrist healing?"

"Not very well. It hasn't healed much at all."

"You're in really bad shape."

"I know. That's what has me so worried about the surgery. I know that it's dangerous, and that I'm really not healthy enough for it, but I don't have a choice. If I don't go through with it, I'll probably die, but I might die anyway."

In the shadows, Rose couldn't see his face, but she could feel his tension and knew how nervous he was. The doctor had told him that he had about a seventy-five percent chance of surviving the surgery, but he was so weak, she felt that it might be lower, and she knew that Jack felt the same way. Still, he had faced overwhelming odds before and survived.

Jack reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out an envelope. Standing, he gestured to Rose to follow him over to where the safety lights lit up the back porch.

He handed the envelope to her. Rose took it, curious.

"What is this?" she asked him, looking at it. It was sealed, with her name on the outside.

"That...these are my instructions...in case something goes wrong. I...don't really have any family that I can rely on, and I need someone to make certain decisions, if necessary."

"What decisions? And what does this have to do with me?"

"If things should go wrong...if there is severe brain damage...or something...and I can't function at all anymore, I need for you to decide when to...to pull the plug."

"Jack—"

He put a hand up, interrupting her. "I don't want to live for years in a vegetative state like some people have. If there's no hope that I will get any better, if things are so bad that I can't live without life support and I can't make the decision for myself, then I want you to make it."

Rose shook her head vehemently. "No, Jack. No. I can't make a decision like that. Why did you choose me to decide...to decide..."

"Because after all we've been through together, I know that I can trust you, and trust your judgment. You won't make any rash decisions, and you'll give it enough time to make sure that things are hopeless. You didn't give up on me when I was in the coma, and I know that you'll make the right decision this time, if it comes to that."

Rose raised tear-filled eyes to look at him. "I can't. I can't make the decision to kill you."

"If it comes to that, I'll already be as good as dead." He paused, pulling her into his arms. "Rose, this is very important to me. I can't live like that. It isn't really living. I didn't want it to be this way, but I trust you more than anyone else, and I know that you'll do the right thing. I wouldn't have given you these instructions if I didn't think you could handle it, and I know that you won't have to make the decision alone. Tommy and Helga will help you, if...if it comes to that."

Rose buried her head in Jack's shoulder, trying not to cry. "Only if there's absolutely no hope."

"I wouldn't want you to make such a decision otherwise." He pulled her closer. "I love you, Rose."

"I love you, too." She sniffed, wiping her eyes. "I always will, no matter what happens. Even...even if something goes wrong, and you...die, or are crippled for life, I'll still love you, and I'll be there for you."

"We can never be sure of what the future holds, but...if I get better, I'll try to make it up to you...for all the trouble I've caused you, and the times that I've hurt you. If I don't get better, I don't want you...mourning...for too long. You're young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. You'll find someone else and be happy."

"No, I won't."

"You will. You're a strong person, Rose, and you'll go on with life, if something should happen. I know that you can, and you will. Promise me that you'll go on."

Slowly, Rose looked up at him, seeing the pleading in his eyes. He didn't want her to give up if he didn't make it. "I promise."

He tilted her chin up. "And never let go of that promise."

Rose hugged him tightly. "I'll never let go, Jack. I'll never let go."

He pulled her closer as she cried quietly against his shoulder. Slowly, they made their way back into the house, and then, unwilling to be separated just yet, sat together on the couch, still holding each other close.

A few minutes later, Rose realized that Jack had fallen asleep on her shoulder, as he had so many times before, and, unwilling to wake him, she put her head against his and closed her eyes.


	37. Into the Darkness 10

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Seven

_Friday, July 18, 2003_

Helga pulled her pillow over her head as Jack's alarm went off. When it hadn't been shut off after a moment, she banged on the wall.

"Jack! Turn off your alarm!"

The alarm kept beeping. Grumbling, Helga got out of bed and went to Jack's door, knocking. "Jack? Are you in there?"

She opened the door slowly, peeking inside. No one was there. She hurried over and shut off the alarm, and then realized that another alarm was also going off, this one in Rose's room.

After turning off the second alarm, she went looking for her roommates. "Jack? Rose? Where are you?"

She finally found them. They were snuggled together on the couch in the living room, sound asleep. Helga shook them.

"Jack! Rose! It's 4:30. You need to wake up."

Jack opened his eyes blearily and looked at her, then closed them again. Helga shook the two again. This time, Rose sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"What?" she asked, grouchy at having her sleep disturbed.

"It's 4:30. I shut off your alarms."

"Oh. Thank you." She shook Jack. "Jack, wake up. We need to get ready to go."

"I am ready," Jack told her, trying to fall back asleep. Rose got up, disturbing him.

"You need to get a shower and put some clean clothes on. You've been wearing those since yesterday."

"Leave me alone, Rose."

"No, get up. We have to leave in twenty minutes."

He finally sat up, putting one hand on his aching head. "I'm not so sure I want to do this."

"Get cleaned up?"

"No, the surgery. Maybe I should just stay home."

"You'll probably live longer if you have it done. Come on, get up."

"Oh, all right." He stumbled in the direction of his room.

Rose looked at Helga, her worry evident. The envelope that Jack had given her a few hours earlier was lying beside her on the couch.

Helga tried to soothe her. "Memorial Hospital's neurosurgeon, Dr. Patel, is one of the top surgeons in California. Jack's in good hands."

"I know, but still...it is dangerous surgery, and he's in such poor health..."

"And he'll probably die if he doesn't have it done, but he has a better chance of living if he goes through with it."

"Jack asked me to make the decision on what to do if something goes seriously wrong." Rose showed Helga the envelope.

"I hope that nothing does, but...you're probably the best person to make such decisions for him. Certainly, you're much more trustworthy than his uncle in Wisconsin."

"I've heard that he and Jack don't get along."

"Jack's uncle, William Dawson, is...something else. He absolutely detests Jack, because Jack spent time in juvenile hall. According to him, once a person messes up, they're worthless scum, incapable of being any good, and the world would be better off without them. A forgiving person he isn't."

Rose shook her head, walking down the hall with Helga to her room. She pulled out some clothes and dressed quickly. "No wonder Jack wanted the decision to be in my hands. I wouldn't trust his uncle any farther than I could throw him."

"Jack's cousin, Emmaline, is okay. She and Jack exchange e-mail and art news. They're both big on art, a fact that William Dawson also detests."

"He doesn't sound like a very happy person. Have you met him?"

"I talked to him on the phone once, when Jack first moved here last summer. He wasn't very pleasant."

"What was he calling about?"

"He was trying to warn us about what a horrible person his nephew is. Since I'd already known Jack for the better part of a year, I didn't listen. He's a thoroughly unpleasant person."

"Sounds like it."

A knock came on the door as Rose was finishing dressing. "Rose? Are you ready to go? It's past five." Jack's voice came from outside the door.

"I'll be ready in a minute," she called, running a brush through her hair. A moment later, she came out of her room, Helga following her.

Jack had showered quickly and put on some clean clothes. His hair was still damp, his clothes hanging off his thin frame. He nodded to Helga and followed Rose down to the kitchen.

Tommy was there, fixing a pot of coffee. He wasn't usually up this early, but he wanted to wish his roommate and friend good luck.

As Rose dug in her purse for her car keys, Helga put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Good luck, Jack," she told him quietly.

Tommy walked over from the other side of the kitchen. "Yeah, good luck," he said. "I hope everything goes well."

Jack hesitated for a moment, then hugged each of his friends, looking around the room, wondering if he would ever be back.

"Come on," Rose told him. "We need to get going." She held the door for him as they made their way out into the front yard and quickly crossed the street to Rose's car.

They were quiet on the way to the hospital, each lost in their own thoughts. Rose played the radio quietly, trying not to worry. Jack watched the road go by, trying to memorize every detail of the world he saw, in case it was the last time.

They arrived at Memorial Hospital at 5:55, just a few minutes early. Before they left the car, Rose reached over and squeezed Jack's hand reassuringly. She could feel his hand shaking slightly from nervousness, so she walked beside him to the door, her arm interlocked with his.

When they arrived in the waiting room, Jack went to sign in while Rose sat down and waited for him. They sat together for about fifteen minutes, holding hands. No one paid much notice to them; worried friends, relatives, and patients were common here.

When a nurse came out and called for Jack, he stood, then stopped, hesitating. Rose stood beside him.

"Come on, Jack," she whispered. "You have to do this. You know that."

He shook his head. "I don't think I can go through with it."

"You can." She hugged him, feeling him shaking. He was absolutely terrified. "It's going to be all right," she told him. "I know it will."

He slowly stepped away from her. "I love you, Rose," he told her softly, before turning and disappearing through the door.

Rose waited for a while, knowing that she would probably be allowed to see him once more before they took him in for surgery.

A nurse finally called to her, allowing her to come back and see him once more before the procedure. Rose went through the door and found him lying on a stretcher, an IV already attached to his arm. He was a great deal calmer than he had been earlier, and Rose surmised that they had probably given him a shot of Valium to calm him down.

"Rose," he greeted her.

"Hey, Jack. How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "A little better. I think they gave me some kind of tranquilizer."

"Valium, probably. That's what's usually used, or so my grandmother says."

"They say it should take six to eight hours. I'll probably be done between one and three."

"I'm leaving work at two, so I should be here when you wake up, or shortly thereafter." She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently and giving him a quick kiss. "I love you, Jack. I've already talked to the people at the front desk. They'll call me at work if anything...happens."

"Thank you, Rose." He squeezed her hand back. "I love you, Rose, and...I trust you."

Rose smiled at him. "I know you do."

"Don't forget...what you promised."

"I won't forget." She let go of his hand. "I'll see you later, Jack. I have to go back to Masline now and go to work." She patted his hand one more time and turned to leave, looking back once. Jack waved to her and she hurried away, heading back to Masline.

*****

Rose was a nervous wreck that day. In contrast to her usual calm, gentle tone, she snapped at difficult clients and jumped every time the phone rang, fearing that it was the hospital calling to tell her that something had gone horribly wrong. She worked herself into an even more nervous state until one of the therapists told her to calm down and take a deep breath and her supervisor sent her to work in the chart room because she was making the clients nervous.

Rose left work at two o'clock. She had skipped lunch since she was leaving early, but she didn't really have much of an appetite anyway. As usual, her emotions got in the way of her appetite.

As Rose drove down the freeway to Southland, she continued to worry. No one had called to say that anything had gone wrong, but what if they had forgotten her request, or ignored it? What if something had happened after she left work? A thousand worries flew through her mind. When she reached Memorial Hospital, she almost leaped from her car.

Forcing herself to appear calm, Rose walked into the waiting room and inquired after Jack. The nurse told her that he was out of surgery now and should wake up shortly. She gave Rose his room number, and Rose hurried to the elevator.

While she walked down the hall, searching for Jack's room, she prayed that everything had gone well. Jack had been through so much already; it just didn't seem right that anything else should go wrong. But things didn't always go the way that people wanted.

She found the room that he was in and went inside. Jack was in the bed closest to the door, still asleep. She sat down beside him and took his hand, hoping that he would wake up soon. She remembered the terrible days following the earthquake, when Jack had lain in a coma for three days and she had feared that he would never wake up. She stroked his hand gently, waiting.

After about ten minutes, Jack stirred, his hand moving in hers. Rose sat forward, waiting. A moment later, he opened his eyes.

"Jack?" Rose spoke softly. "How are you doing?"

He looked at her strangely, then moved his free hand to rub his eyes. After a moment, he looked at her again.

"I didn't think there were two of you," he said quietly.

Rose was confused for a minute, but then remembered that general anesthesia could sometimes cause double vision. Her grandfather had experienced the same thing when he'd had surgery for cancer.

"Rose?" Jack asked. "Is it over?"

"Yes," Rose told him, smiling. "It's over, and you're still alive. How do you feel?"

He considered the question for a minute, his hand moving to touch his head. Gingerly, he felt the bandage on the back of his head, then commented, "I still have hair."

"Yes. They only shaved the back of your head. But how are you feeling?"

He looked at her. "Better," he said. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"That's wonderful," Rose told him, smiling. Maybe this time things would be better.

Dr. Patel came in to examine his patient. He checked him over, and then nodded approvingly. "So far, so good," he told them. "It will still be a couple of weeks before we know for sure how well things went," he cautioned. "There may still be some problems."

But as Jack looked up at her and gave her the first real smile that she had seen in weeks, Rose knew that, this time, everything was going to be all right.


	38. Recovery 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jack recovered quickly following the surgery. No longer plagued by constant pain, and able to eat normally and rest well again, his progress was rapid.

He spent most of the first four days sleeping, exhausted from the strain of the past couple of months and from the surgery itself, but after that he became more alert. Rose and the others visited only briefly the first few days, but as Jack became more alert and his mood improved, they spent more time visiting with him.

Jack was a model patient at first, quiet and uncomplaining. Still recovering from his ordeal, he made few demands at first. Those taking care of him would awaken him for the usual blood tests and examinations, as well as to eat small amounts of food, but otherwise he slept for the first few days. When food was brought to him, he ate it without complaint, even the hated Jell-O. The weeks of near-starvation had left him ravenous, and he hungrily consumed whatever was placed before him.

After a few days, however, as he recovered, he began to grow bored. When the others came to visit, he complained about the hospital cuisine, about the staff, and about how dull everything was. After he recovered his appetite, he developed a strong dislike of hospital food and pleaded with his roommates to bring him some real food. Helga and Rose both put their feet down, but Tommy finally took pity on him and smuggled in some decent food.

Helga visited him the most, dropping by during her breaks and lunch, but Rose came by every afternoon when she was finished with work, and Tommy came by, too, though he stayed for less time than the others. Mr. Messner came by a couple of times to confirm that Jack was indeed doing better, and a few of Jack's co-workers visited as well.

Jack was feeling better than he had since the earthquake. The seizures had stopped, the headache was gone, and was regaining his energy and his appetite. Moreover, the depression that had weighed him down for so long was lifting, though he still took medication to treat it, and he was more serious than he had been before his ordeal.

Still, he was doing much better overall, and when Rose brought him books, magazines, and his portfolio, he took genuine interest in them. He rekindled his interest in art, sketching the various people that he met and sketching pictures of his friends when they came to visit him. He also began a secret project for Rose, though he didn't know when he would give it to her.

*****

All of Jack's roommates visited him at once on the second Saturday after his surgery. His health and his mood had improved enough that he felt able to deal with all of them visiting at once. Before that, they had all dropped by for a brief time on the day of his surgery, but had left soon after, leaving him to rest. Even Rose had kept her visits short those first few days, allowing him time to recover.

When they came by on Saturday morning, Jack had already finished breakfast and was sitting up in bed, reading one of the books Rose had brought him. He set it aside when the others came in.

"Hey," he greeted them, glad for the distraction. It would still be about two weeks before he could go home, and he was already tired of the hospital. He hadn't minded it so much the first time, but he was feeling better this time around and was looking forward to the time when he could leave.

"Hey, Jack," Rose answered him, giving him a quick kiss. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "I'd like to leave."

"Not until you're through healing," Rose reminded him. "The last thing you need is a relapse."

"I know." He sighed, glad that at least he seemed to be healing quickly and would be able to leave in another couple of weeks. He looked at the place on his wrist where he had cut himself. It had finally healed, and the bandage was gone. He would always have scars, but he was getting better. There wouldn't be a repeat of his attempt to take his own life.

Rose noticed. "That finally healed," she commented, gesturing to the scar.

"Yeah, finally." He covered it with his hand, aware that Tommy and Helga looked a little uncomfortable.

Helga looked at the healing surgery wounds on his head. "Your head is healing, too."

He touched the still-bandaged area carefully. His hair was beginning to grow back away from where the cuts were, though it was kept shaved around the healing wounds to prevent infection.

Tommy looked at him. "Okay, Jack. I have a question for you here."

"What is it?"

"Helga says that you now have a steel plate in your head to replace the section of skull that was destroyed. Is that true?"

Helga had gleaned that bit of information from Jack's chart, and he had told Rose about it. The two women waited gleefully for Tommy's reaction.

"Yes, I do have a steel plate in my head. It's covered up, though. I'm not going to look like a cyborg or anything."

Rose and Helga laughed at the expression on Tommy's face. He shot them a baleful look. They just laughed harder.

"Okay. So, if you have a steel plate in your head, does this mean that magnets will stick to your head?"

It was Jack's turn to look at him balefully. "Don't even try it."

Helga snorted, unable to hide her mirth. The two men looked at Helga and Rose as though they had lost their minds. "What's so funny?" Jack wanted to know.

Rose tried to stop laughing. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

"Nothing."

"Rose..."

"You had to be there," she told him.

Jack looked at her oddly. "Okay. Whatever you say."

The two women finally stopped laughing. Helga stood up. "I'm going to go and get some coffee," she told them. "Does anyone else want any?"

"I'll go with you," Tommy volunteered. "Rose?"

"No, thanks. I'll stay here."

Helga looked at Jack before he could ask. "No. You can't have coffee. Eat what you're given. I know you aren't starving, because you've obviously gained some weight."

"Oh, come on."

"Why don't you drink some water?" Rose suggested, pointing to the pitcher beside his bed. Jack's expression told her exactly what he thought of that.

When Tommy and Helga had left, Rose sat back down beside him. "Coffee?" she teased him. "You don't even like coffee."

"It was worth a try."

"I know you don't like it here, but you'll be home in a couple of weeks. You'll survive."

"I know." He sighed. "I'm just bored, is all."

"You're certainly doing much better than the last time, even if you're not completely back to your old self yet."

"It's been...quite an experience."

"It has been. But you're doing better now, and before long things will be the way they were before."

"I don't know. I feel like I've changed somehow. I don't quite know how to say it. It's just...I've been through a lot, and I think it's changed something inside me. Not for the worse, I think, but...I feel like I understand things better now, like I understand other people better."

"You were already very understanding," Rose told him. "You were there for me when I needed you, and you stuck with me even when I pushed you away. That hasn't changed. It's one of the things I love about you."

"You're the same way." He reached for her hand. "You could have given up on me during this whole ordeal, but you didn't. You refused to give up, and I'm still alive because of it."

"I think you would have changed your mind about slitting your wrists even if I hadn't come home."

"Maybe. But by then, it might have been too late. You probably would have changed your mind about jumping into that basement that night at Elias University, but if you had slipped, with no one to help you, it wouldn't have mattered that you'd changed your mind. That would have been the end of things."

Rose nodded. "We've been there for each other, both in good times and in bad. We've both been very lucky, considering."

"If you say so."

"I do. We're alive and we're together, in spite of everything that's happened."

He thought about that for a moment. "You're right. But still...it feels like something has changed...like I've grown inside, because of what I went through. I wish I could understand it." He paused. "Do you still have that psychology textbook that I saw you studying a few times last year?"

"Yes. I kept all of my books. You never know when one of them will come in handy. Why?"

"Could I borrow it? Maybe reading it would allow me to learn something about...all this."

Rose smiled. "Sure. I'll bring it when I stop by to visit tomorrow. It's actually not that bad a book." She paused, smiling mischievously. "Just don't do what I did."

"What did you do?"

"I had been learning about Freud, and at the meeting where they merged Sunpeak and Titan Construction, I got mad at the president of Sunpeak and told him that Freud's ideas on the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to him."

Jack looked at her, unable to hide a smirk. "That was subtle."

"I don't think he got it. Cal did, though, and hauled me out into the hall to yell at me. That was the first time you and I saw each other."

"I remember that day. But the way you insulted Tim Isley...not many people would come up with such a...subtle way to say that. If the other Sunpeak employees could have heard you, they would probably have cheered." He laughed.

Rose looked at him, realizing that this was the first time he had laughed in a long time. Throwing her arms around him, she laughed, too.


	39. Recovery 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Thirty-Nine

True to her word, Rose brought Jack her psychology textbook the next day. He thanked her and set about reading it, immersing himself in the material. So fascinating did he find this new course of study that he stopped complaining about boredom and instead used the time to learn more about the workings of the mind—his own and other people's.

After reading the section on psychiatric disorders, and their causes and symptoms, he gained a greater understanding of what he had gone through. As he had been diagnosed at the mental health clinic, he had been a victim of clinical depression—but in his case, it was brought on by a combination of head trauma and stress, rather than by chemical imbalances, as was the usual cause.

Many of the symptoms he read about were painfully familiar—the sadness, the sense of hopelessness, the loss of interest in life, the feelings of guilt, the sleep disturbances, the disturbed thinking—and worst of all, the suicidal feelings. He had lived in his own personal hell for nearly two and a half months, and it was only Rose's determination to help, her refusal to give up on him, that had finally pushed him to take the necessary steps to overcome it. He learned, from his studies, that some people existed for years in the twilight of depression, and he wondered how they found the strength to survive. He had barely been able to function, and it was only Rose's intervention the day he had tried to end his life that had enabled him to survive. The physical disease had been only part of it; the greater part of his trouble had been in the shadows of his own mind.

It was a normal, necessary part of being human to live in these mind shadows part of the time; a person would lose their humanity without them. But when a person sank so deeply into them that they could not escape, or rather, when they existed in that twilight part of the psyche, where the individual could see and remember the light, but could not reach it, they lost something essential, and the mind could not continue to exist on a normal human plane. The person sank into their own hell, a twilight world of shadows and despair, like an unending day of cold, rain, and clouds. And yet, when at last the darkness became light, it brought its own blessing, a sense of relief and joy that could not otherwise be measured, as though an endless winter had ended, and spring had come at last.

Jack was fascinated by the many aspects of the psyche, and began to delve more deeply into them. After reading about the work of various psychiatrists and philosophers, he found himself most taken with the ideas of Carl Jung, whose work on the different facets of the unconscious mind revealed a great deal about what it meant to be human. Called archetypes, these dimensions of the mind were consciously expressed in many different, subtle forms, and Jack recognized some of them in his own artwork.

He had never consciously thought about such things, but they were there nonetheless, and learning of them allowed him to recognize things deep within his mind, to understand them, and soon he began to deliberately include them in his art. Tommy and Helga were puzzled by his fascination with archetypes at first, Tommy wondering out loud if this was a new symptom of something being wrong with Jack. Rose, however, understood much better, having been through some dark times herself and having developed a better understanding of herself and others because of them. She and Jack talked about what he was learning, and though she didn't always understand this new dimension to his artwork, she liked it, telling him that it had truth, but no logic—just like the workings of the mind, as she understood them.

Looking back, Jack recognized all of the things he was now conscious of, things that he had often seen and put down on paper without ever being completely aware of them. Like many artists throughout time, he had a deep, if unconscious, awareness of the underlying dimensions of life, those not always recognized as an everyday phenomenon. So powerful were the works of some that they were ridiculed, and at times even banned, or worse. Looking through his portfolio, he saw many of the symbols in his older work, unconsciously drawn from the depths of his mind and applied to what he saw around him. He had always been perceptive, capable of understanding what was truly going on with another person, but this ability had been sharpened, magnified by his own ordeal—and as his understanding increased, he began to think of new ways to use this knowledge, ways in which he might help others who were going through the same misery he had experienced.


	40. Recovery 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty

_Friday, August 8, 2003_

On August eighth, Jack was finally released from the hospital. Rose brought him home that afternoon after she was finished with work.

Jack was fully recovered this time, in stark contrast to the previous time that he had been released from the hospital, when his problems were just beginning. Despite the fact that he was more serious and thoughtful than he had been before, his optimism and sense of humor were back, and there was no sign of further trouble from the head injury. He was truly healed this time.

He wore the same clothes home that he had worn when he was admitted to the hospital, but they fit much better now. He was still thin, but he had gained back some of the weight that he had lost. He was regaining his strength as well, and no longer wanted to sleep all day. It would be another week before he could return to work, but this time things were much better.

Jack and Rose talked quietly as they made their way back to Masline. In spite of their closeness, they felt a little uncomfortable with each other now. They had seen each other at their worst, and weren't quite sure how to deal with it.

They made small talk at first, discussing the weather, the traffic, Rose's work, how quickly the earthquake-damaged parts of the cities were being rebuilt. At last, though, they moved on to the more serious subjects that they needed to discuss.

Jack turned to Rose after quietly watching the road for a moment. "Rose," he began, "I wanted to...to thank you."

"For what?"

"For standing by me during all of this. I was pretty awful to you, but you didn't give up on me."

Rose watched the road for a moment before responding. "I couldn't give up on you. I love you, and...you didn't give up on me when my life was difficult, even when I pushed you away."

"I couldn't. I knew that something was wrong, even if you wouldn't tell me what it was."

Rose nodded. "As I knew with you."

"I tried to deny it."

"Sometimes, you just can't completely hide things. But if I hadn't known you as well as I do, if I hadn't known what I did, I don't think I would have fully recognized what was going on. You suffered for a long time before you said anything about it."

"I know. And I was lucky that things were caught when they were. Dr. Patel told me that if the surgery had been even a few hours later, I probably wouldn't have made it. I was very close to having a major stroke."

Rose glanced at him, alarmed. He hadn't told her just how serious things had been. "You were very lucky."

"I was. But I wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for you. Either I would have bled to death in the backyard from slashing my wrists or I would have continued to ignore the problem and died later from a stroke—or starvation." He took a deep breath. "I hope that I never have to go through that again."

"I hope not, either. But if something like this does happen again—if you know that something is wrong—you shouldn't try to ignore it and suffer in silence. It won't make the problem go away, and might even make it worse."

He sighed. "I won't. If something should go wrong again, I'll...try to find out what the problem is and get it fixed right away. Those two and a half months...were like being in hell. That's what it felt like." He looked down at his scarred wrist. "And I promise you now that I will never try to take my own life again. Life is too precious to just throw away like that. You were right when you said that I didn't really want to kill myself. I just didn't feel like I had any other options."

"But in the end, you chose to live."

Jack nodded. "I did, and I'm glad now that I'm alive. I think I learned a lot from all this, and...now I have to decide where to go from here."

Rose looked at him as they pulled up to a stop light. "Whatever happens, I'll always be there for you. I don't know where life is going to take us, or if things will even work out between us, but I do love you, and that's not going to change, even if we wind up going our separate ways."

Jack was silent for a moment before he nodded slowly. "I love you, too, Rose. But I think you're right. We have a lot to talk about before we can make any decisions about us—a lot to think about, too."

In many ways, it seemed that they were back where they had been before the earthquake. But a lot had happened since then, and they had both changed—and they both knew it. In many ways, they had formed a stronger bond than ever before, but that same bond had been tested by the experiences of the past few months, and it would be some time before they felt completely comfortable with each other again.


	41. Starting Anew 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-One

_Saturday, August 16, 2003_

Rose walked out to the mailbox. It was about nine o'clock in the morning and the mail had arrived early, as it usually did on Saturdays. It was already hot, the temperature promising to be over a hundred.

Rose smiled to herself, pulling the stack of envelopes, magazines, and papers from the mailbox. In spite of the heat, she was content. Things had improved drastically since Jack had had his brain surgery, and, despite their slight uneasiness with each other, life was good.

Jack had made a full recovery and would be returning to work on Monday. He was also talking about returning to college as soon as the new semester started, though the others were trying to talk him out of it. To be sure, he had only completed six units, since he had been unable to complete the spring semester due to his injuries, but no one wanted to see him have a relapse.

Rose, for her part, was planning upon attending Masline City College when the new semester started. Part of it had been destroyed in the earthquake, but the buildings had been put together with earthquake safety in mind and there were enough left standing for classes to be held. Some classes, according to the newspaper, would be held at other locations, including Windsor High School, from which Rose had graduated a little over a year earlier.

Rose couldn't help but laugh at the idea of going back to high school, even if it was to take college classes. She couldn't return to Elias University. She didn't have the money and didn't really want to go back anyway. Mari and Michelle would be there, but Rose was heading in a different direction.

She didn't know what she wanted to major in. Cal had insisted upon business, but Rose really hadn't enjoyed that subject and wanted to try something else. Community college was the perfect place to do so. She didn't have much money, as much of what she earned went into rent, food, and other necessities, but she had two scholarships that had been awarded to her at the end of high school that she had never used, since Cal had paid her way at Elias University. She had also learned from Jack that her low income the previous year and her independent status, as she was no longer living with her mother, would probably qualify her for fee waivers, leaving only the cost of books, supplies, and parking to be dealt with—though the cost of those was frequently higher than the cost of tuition at a community college. Jack had qualified for fee waivers from the start and still would, for the time being.

Rose walked back into the house, sorting through the mail and placing it in stacks according to who it was addressed to. General junk mail she set in the middle of the table in case someone wanted to look at it.

A catalogue from Masline City College was included, so after setting her mail aside, Rose sat down to look at it. She could only take night and weekend classes, since she worked during the day, but community colleges were designed to accommodate working students, so there were plenty of such classes available.

Looking through the catalogue, she tried to decide what to take. There were so many intriguing things that it was hard to choose. She had many interests in life and would have liked to explore them all. But since there were limits to what she had the time and money for, she looked at the ones that interested her most.

She loved music, but she didn't have an instrument to practice on and she didn't have the money to rent or buy one. Her mother had a piano, which Rose had learned to play when she was a child, but she wouldn't ask Ruth for the use of the piano. She had too much pride, and more than likely Ruth would turn her down anyway.

She had always loved singing, even singing for the whole church on occasion and in musicals and chorus in high school, but she doubted she was really all that good at it, considering Jack's reaction the last time she had tried singing at home. Involuntarily, her hand went to her shoulder, remembering how he had hit her. The bruise had long since healed, and she new that he hadn't meant to hit her, but she wasn't eager to try singing again. For some reason, Jack's hitting her had bothered her more than Cal's had, possibly because she had trusted Jack, but she had never quite trusted Cal. Things were better now, but the memory still bothered her.

Sighing, Rose turned from the section on music to something else that interested her—political science. She smiled. Politics had always interested her, even when she was a child. She remembered how annoyed her mother had gotten when Rose had read the newspaper and then asked questions about everything. Her father had been more tolerant, answering her questions and trying to explain why things worked the way they did. As soon as she was old enough, Rose had registered to vote and had taken a great deal of interest in political organizations on campus, though she had never actually had the time to join any of them.

Nodding to herself, Rose filled out the form inside the catalogue, putting Introduction to Political Science on the list of classes she wanted to take. She thought she could handle three of them, so she began looking for something else to enroll in.

Rose had just added a recent U.S. history class to the list and was perusing the selection of art history classes when Jack walked in from the backyard, his portfolio in his hand. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat down at the table to see what Rose was up to.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at the catalogue.

"I'm signing up for classes for the fall semester at Masline City College."

"I need to do that, too."

"Jack...are you sure that's such a good idea? Maybe you should take things easy for a while."

"I need to continue my education, and I never did get to finish last semester since I got hurt. I thought a little bit about taking summer classes, but it just didn't seem worth it."

"You were probably too sick for them, anyway."

"Probably."

There was silence for a moment. Then Rose looked at Jack's portfolio and asked, "What have you been drawing?"

In response, he opened the portfolio and showed her a newly drawn picture of one of their neighbors, an eighty-year-old woman who lived catty-corner behind them. Isadora Juarez spent every morning, rain or shine, working in her garden, dressed in a flowing caftan, sandals, and an oversized straw hat. Her yard was the envy of those around her, constantly filled with green grass, flowers, vegetable plants, and fruit trees. Jack had drawn her digging in the dark, rich soil, kneeling under a carefully pruned apple tree loaded with fruit almost ready for picking. She was smiling, carefully placing small pots of flowers in the soil. Jack had captured her perfectly.

"This is beautiful," Rose commented. "It's Mrs. Juarez to the life."

"She certainly does some good work," Jack replied. "Her yard is a work of art in itself. Look at the way she's arranging those flowers around the tree, kind of like a circle leading you to it."

Rose smiled. She had recognized Jack's interest in the various symbols and the way he liked to add them to his artwork. But he was right. Mrs. Juarez's yard was a work of art.

"When are you going to sketch me?" she asked him, handing back the drawing.

"Sketch you?"

"Yes. Remember when you tried to give me your portfolio, and I told you that it would be better if you made a drawing of me instead? I said I would pose for you, and I still want to."

He looked a little surprised, but nodded. "I can sketch you any time you like." He looked at the work he had already done that day. "I'm kind of on a roll here. How about now?"

Rose was a bit surprised, but nodded. "Now sounds good, before anyone else comes home."

"Why before anyone else comes home?" They were the only ones there. Tommy worked on Saturday mornings, and Helga was away visiting her parents in Anaheim and wouldn't be back until evening.

"Jack, do you remember those drawings you made of Helga—sans clothing?"

He nodded again, wondering what she was getting at.

"I want you to draw me like that."

"You?" Jack looked a bit flustered.

"Why not? I don't look that bad, do I?"

"Well, no...but...I just never thought you'd want to be drawn that way."

"I have no problem with it, and it's not as if you haven't already seen me unclothed."

He blushed at that, then smiled. "All right. Where do you want to pose?"

"How about on the living room couch? It's the best place in the house, and it's too hot to go outside. Besides, the neighbors might see if we did this out in the yard."

"Good point. Okay, you go get ready. I'll get the art supplies ready."

Rose hurried down to her room and undressed, putting on just her light summer robe. Thinking for a moment, she pulled a locked metal box from a shelf on her closet and sorted through it, coming up with the sapphire and diamond pendant Cal had given to her. Clutching the necklace in one hand, she walked out to the living room, where Jack had his art supplies spread out across an old folding table, facing the couch. The lamp beside the couch was turned on and set in such a way that it would highlight Rose's face when she lay down.

"There is one thing that I want to wear," she told him, holding out the necklace.

"Wow…that's nice. Where did you get it?"

"Cal gave it to me. He said that it was a birthday present, but he gave to me early, as a peace offering, after that morning when he…when I wound up in the hospital with a concussion. He brought me this, saying that he went too far."

"I'll agree," Jack told her. Too far was an understatement.

"I didn't want it. I had liked it when I saw it in a store window, but when he gave it to me it seemed like nothing more than an expensive decoration for an expensive possession. If I'd been able to buy it myself, it would have been different, but…"

"Is it real?"

Rose nodded. "Real sapphire, real diamonds, real fourteen carat gold. Only the best for his favorite punching bag."

"Are you sure you want to wear this?"

Rose was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Positive. It's not the necklace I dislike, it's Cal. I'd rather create a pleasant memory with this thing than always remember it as a symbol of what he did to me that day."

"Okay." Jack watched as Rose fastened the chain around her neck. When she removed her robe and draped it over a chair, he stared for a moment, eyes wide.

"Uh...over there. On the bed—the—the couch."

Rose smiled, suppressing a laugh at his words. It was obvious that drawing her wasn't the only thing on his mind. She settled onto the couch.

"Tell me when it looks right." She moved her arms, trying to find a good pose.

"Wait. Put your arm back up like that. Right. That looks good."

Rose watched him as he began to sketch her. His face was intense, concentrating on his work, but the look in his eyes when he would look back at her told her that his mind was not entirely on drawing. She suppressed a smile, realizing that hers wasn't either.

She couldn't help but remember the last time she had posed for him, on that afternoon in May. Though the drawing had been far less intimate—she had been fully clothed, and they had been out in the open—there had been a bonding between them that day that had been more than physical. It had been a bonding of spirits as well. She remembered how they had "flown" on the cliff, and how they had kissed for the first time. There had been no awkwardness; it had seemed natural and right. The drawing had been a part of that, capturing her soul, capturing the way that she felt beyond all the pain of the previous two weeks. It had been a time of healing, and the haunted look had vanished from her eyes by the time it was done.

Afterwards, they had raced down the hill together, laughing, and Rose had accompanied Jack into the house, feeling more relaxed and comfortable than she had in a long time. When she had followed him to his room, she had been certain that what she was doing was right, an expression of her love for him. Even when he had embraced her too tightly, putting pressure on her cracked ribs, she had still trusted him, knowing that he hadn't meant to hurt her, knowing that he hadn't known what had happened. When at last she had broken down and told him what had happened that horrible morning, he had taken her in his arms, holding her as she wept in misery and trying to convince her that she hadn't done anything to deserve what had happened to her.

Rose had been humiliated to admit that she had been raped, but afterward she had felt as though a great weight had been lifted. She had felt immeasurably better, no longer holding the pain inside. She remembered Jack's surprised expression when she had insisted that she still wanted to make love, even after what she had told him. And they had. Jack had been gentle with her, mindful of the fact that she was injured, but passionate nonetheless. And when it was over, they had lain snuggled together, arms wrapped around each other, basking in the warm aftermath, neither wanting to move.

Rose looked up as Jack put the finishing touches on the drawing, blowing away the dust. Rising from the couch, she put her robe back on and came over to the table to see it.

"It's beautiful, Jack," she murmured, viewing the drawing. She looked relaxed and languid, the sapphire pendant nestled at her throat, a half-smile on her face. Jack handed the drawing to her and she kissed him, giggling, then glanced at the clock.

"I'd better go get dressed," she told him, "before Tommy comes home and gets another shock."

Jack laughed, remembering when Tommy had walked in to find them in bed together. "Two shocks in one year. I don't know if his heart can take it."

Rose laughed, taking the drawing and hurrying down to her room to get dressed again and put away the necklace.

Rose was almost finished dressing when she heard Tommy come in the front door. Quickly putting on her sandals, she hurried out to greet him.

"Hey, Tommy," she greeted him, walking into the kitchen. Jack had cleaned up his art supplies and was sitting at the table, looking at the college catalogue.

"Hi," Tommy greeted her, before turning to Jack. "You're not really thinking of going back to college so soon, are you?"

"Yes, I am," Jack told him.

"You just got out of the hospital a week ago, you're going back to work on Monday, and the semester starts on Wednesday," Tommy pointed out, looking at the cover of the catalogue.

"I can handle it."

"But can we? I don't want you to have a relapse," Rose told him, sitting down next to him and looking at the catalogue. "Remember what Dr. Patel said about taking it easy for a while."

"I really need to start working on my degree again."

"Why don't you take just one class?" Tommy suggested. "Something that you're interested in."

"Well..." Jack was a bit reluctant.

"Why don't we take something together?" Rose suggested. "I was thinking of taking art history this semester. Have you taken that yet?"

"I tried to take it last semester, but I didn't complete it."

"It's being held on Thursday nights at seven on campus. The instructor is George Peck."

"I had him last semester. He really knows his stuff."

"Then why don't you take that one again? You already know a lot, and you'd probably enjoy it. You might even already have the textbook."

Jack considered this for a moment. He did need to repeat the class.

"All right. I'll take that one. Were you going to take it, too?"

"I was thinking of it."

"If you take it, I'll pay for the parking permit, and I'll share the old book with you, or split the cost of a new one if they've changed it. We can take the class together."

Rose nodded. "That sounds good. Textbooks are always too expensive."

"I paid over a hundred dollars for three textbooks last semester—and it would have been more if I hadn't bought them used from . I'm just lucky I had my fees waived."

"Cal paid for mine all last year, but they still seemed expensive."

"The cost of textbooks would give Bill Gates a heart attack."

Rose laughed. "Maybe we can add something to the art history," she remarked, then blushed at her own comment. Jack turned red, too, and Tommy looked at them like they were both crazy.

"I'm sure I don't want to know," he muttered, heading into the living room and turning on the television.

Jack started laughing, and after a moment Rose joined him, both feeling more comfortable with each other than they had since Jack had gotten hurt.


	42. Starting Anew 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Two

_Sunday, August 24, 2003_

The following Monday, Jack and Rose drove over to the college to sign up for classes. There was a great deal of construction going on, with efforts being made to repair or replace the earthquake-damaged buildings. Jack, as he had promised, signed up for only one class, the Art History class with Rose, and they both qualified for fee waivers. They were also gratified to learn that the textbook from the previous semester was still good, so they didn't have to buy another, though Rose grumbled at the cost of the books she did have to buy. Even when bought used, they were still expensive.

Rose's first class was on Wednesday, the history class, and she and Jack decided that they would take turns driving to the college—she on Monday and Wednesday nights, he on Thursdays. The arrangement worked well, and ensured that they only had to buy one overpriced parking permit.

Even after only one class, Rose was impressed by the knowledge of George Peck and couldn't wait to learn more. She had always liked art, though she wasn't very good at drawing or painting, and enjoyed the lecture. Jack had heard it before, but now he paid even more attention, picking up on the symbolism of the art. He already had a fair amount of knowledge about art history, since he had been fascinated with art since he was about six years old, and he was able to explain some things to Rose that she hadn't thought of. When he e-mailed his cousin Emmaline about the class, she demanded that he and Rose send her everything they could find out. Her father thought that art was a waste of time, but he never bothered to get into her e-mail, so Emmaline used this source to learn more about her hobby.

On Sunday morning, Rose walked into the kitchen to find Jack staring thoughtfully at his bowl of cereal.

"Good morning, Jack," she told him, sitting down. "That cereal must be fascinating."

He looked up. "What?"

"You're staring at your cereal as though it holds the secrets to the world."

"Oh. I was just thinking, is all."

"What about?"

"Nothing much. Just...I suddenly realized that I haven't been down to Mexico yet to visit Fabrizio's grave."

"And so you were staring at your cereal. That sounds like what my grandmother calls a 'Bukater Brown-Out', only you're not a Bukater."

"I was thinking of going down there today. It's a little cooler than it has been, so the drive shouldn't be too bad."

"I was wondering when you were going to visit."

"I didn't feel up to it before, but I think it's time I went down there." He paused a moment. "Would you like to come along?"

Rose thought for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Did you ask Helga?"

"She has to work."

"Oh, that's right. I think she'd like to go down there, though."

"Maybe one of these days we can all go down there, but I think I want to visit today, see where he's buried and visit with his family."

"You miss him, don't you?"

Jack shrugged. "He was my best friend. Don't you miss Trudy?"

Rose nodded. "Yes. Very much."

"I'd like to leave in about an hour. Can you be ready by then?"

"I'll be ready."

*****

At around nine o'clock, Jack and Rose started out for Mexico, driving Jack's car, which, he said, was uglier than Rose's. She laughed at the remark, but didn't object. Her car wasn't that fancy, but it was better to leave it at home.

The drive was much shorter than it had been in the days following the earthquake. Most of the roads had been repaired, so the drive took only about two and a half hours. Jack was much more familiar with the village that Fabrizio was from than the others had been, and had little trouble finding Fabrizio's family's house.

One of the younger children ran into the house, yelling that Fabrizio's American friends were there, and a moment later Ana came out to greet them.

She spoke to them in Spanish, and, while Rose had picked up a little more of that language, she still had difficulty understanding it. Jack, however, was almost fluent, having learned it from Fabrizio while they worked in the fields in the United States.

They visited for a short time, exchanging news and eating lunch with the De Rosas, before they left for the cemetery. Jack translated for Rose, though she understood a little of the Spanish, and told her that Ana was hoping that Helga would make the trip down after her baby was born. She wanted to meet her grandchild.

After about an hour, they bade the De Rosas farewell and headed for the cemetery. Rose had been present for the funeral and covered every inch of the route on her crutches, so she remembered well where Fabrizio had been buried.

It was about a five minute walk from the street to the place where Fabrizio's grave lay. It was marked with a carved wooden cross—there was no money for anything fancier—and lay amongst the graves of other members of the family.

Jack stared at the wooden cross for a moment. "I wish I could have been here for the funeral."

Rose stood beside him, an arm around him. "I think Fabrizio would have understood why you couldn't be there," she told him soothingly.

"I wish I had found a way."

"You were so weak that you could barely sit up. No one in their right mind would have expected you to be there."

"Still..."

"You're here now."

"Yeah." He looked at the wooden cross again. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here, _amigo_. I would have been if I could." He took a deep breath, then went on. "I guess you might know what's been happening here. Helga's going to have a baby in January. You're going to be a father. She misses you a lot, and wishes that she could be here, too, but you know what employers can be like. She has a rude boss, one so bad that she almost makes that fat bastard at Sunpeak look human. You remember him. The one that people wished would be hit be a meteor, or eaten by coyotes. The earthquake got him, but I guess you know that. Anyway, Sunpeak is gone, and they aren't going to rebuild it. It's just too bad so many people had to die for things to change. Dammit, I wish you hadn't been one of them."

His voice was growing loud. Rose tugged on his arm, gesturing to the few people in the cemetery who were turning to stare at him. He lowered his voice.

"Dammit, Fabri, why did you have to die? You had so much going for you. You were so close to being a citizen, and you had a new wife and a baby on the way. Helga found out what the baby is—it's a boy. But he'll never know his father." Rose put her arms around him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "We all miss you, Fabri, and I hope that wherever you are, you've found peace. God knows there's not enough of it here."

They stood before the grave awhile longer, not speaking, just standing quietly and gazing at the simple wooden cross. A soft breeze blew across the cemetery, ruffling their hair and rustling the leaves on the eucalyptus tree nearby.

Finally, Jack spoke one more time. "Well, Fabri, we have to be going now. It's getting late, and we have a long drive back to the United States. Sometime soon, we'll all stop by here again."

They left quietly, Jack looking back once at the grave, highlighted by the mid-afternoon sun. He could almost swear that he had heard Fabrizio whispering to him, but maybe it was just the wind. He didn't know.

Silently, they made their way back to the car and started the long drive back to the United States.


	43. Starting Anew 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Three

It was around 3:30 when Jack and Rose crossed back into the United States. As they made their way back north toward Masline, they decided to take a detour through the mountains to the small mountain town of Julian. It had been a long, stressful day for both of them, so they didn't feel like going home just yet.

They wandered around the little town for about two hours, leaving the car parked on one of the main streets. Julian was the sort of town that was easy to explore on foot, so they wandered around shops, museums, and the streets, enjoying the cool air. Rose was more interested in the various shops than Jack was, but he humored her, following her around and looking for whatever might be interesting.

Jack was quiet and introspective most of the day, listening quietly as Rose commented on what she saw. His mind was elsewhere, thinking about his visit to Fabrizio's grave that afternoon. Rose tried to draw him into a conversation, but his mind was on other things.

They finally stopped at a small restaurant for dinner. After they were seated and had ordered their food, Rose looked across the table at Jack. "What's on your mind?" she asked, toying with her glass of water.

He shrugged. "I was just thinking about today. It was good to see the de Rosas again, but..."

"But you still miss Fabrizio."

"We'd been best friends for two years, ever since he slipped across the border and we wound up working side by side in a lettuce field in Arizona."

"A lettuce field?"

"Yeah. The farm owners hire people to pick the crops, usually at very low wages."

Rose frowned. "How low?"

"Sometimes we were lucky to eat. Some of the owners didn't want to hire me because I'm an American, and they thought I would demand more money than they wanted to pay, or rat on them for hiring illegal immigrants, or for the poor conditions or sub-legal pay."

"It sounds like you needed a union."

"We did, but I didn't raise too much of a fuss. I needed the work, though there were times when disagreements would come up. There were a couple of employers, one in Arizona and one in California, who thought that they could get away with not paying people. Some of the illegal immigrants would have put up with it, because they were afraid of being deported, but I'm an American, so I don't have such worries. I could complain all I wanted without fear of getting into trouble."

"Some people say that illegal immigrants are taking jobs away from Americans."

"Ha. Like migrant farm work...do you know how hard it is to find Americans who _want_ to do that?"

"They'd probably have to raise wages. Poor farmers." Rose's voice was sarcastic. Then she corrected herself. "I'm guessing it was the big agribusinesses that abused people the most, not the little guys."

"Mostly, yeah. Some were better than others. Of course, the small farms didn't need to hire as many people, so the employees there weren't so nameless and faceless to the owners. Most of the small farms, though, couldn't afford to pay people a lot, even if they wanted to, because they were under so much pressure and competition from agribusiness. The agribusinesses could afford to pay more, but they didn't. The people in charge of them said they couldn't pay people more because that would raise the price of food in the stores—never mind the fact that if so much of it weren't wasted, there would be enough that prices wouldn't need to be raised. A lot of the waste was deliberate in order to keep prices high and wages low. Mustn't cut into the profits just so the workers can live. After all, they're just immigrants. Why should anyone care about them?"

"Ah, but you're forgetting that Fabrizio also worked for Sunpeak."

"Yeah, he took away a sweatshop job that nobody wanted. Poor things."

Rose laughed. "I don't think anyone suffered because they couldn't get a job at Sunpeak. How many people were they lacking—about five hundred?"

"About that. They were so desperate for workers that they were hiring people that weren't qualified. When you're missing one or two people, you can be picky. When you're missing five hundred, and even the temporary workers refuse to come anywhere near you, you have to take what you can get. Hardly anyone stayed for more than a month or two."

"According to the records—which Cal had me shred—there was about a ninety-seven percent turnover rate."

"Something like that. And that was just the workers. About half of the management quit every year, and they had a hard time finding new people. I remember there was this one lead that had been told when he was hired that he wouldn't have to work on his days off. After he started work, they told him that he did, and that only the company mattered, not him."

Rose rolled her eyes, not surprised in the slightest. "What did he say?"

"Basically, he told the supervisors exactly where they could stick their job and walked out." He smiled at the memory. "The whole room started clapping and cheering."

She laughed. "I bet that made the supervisors happy."

"They threatened to fire us if we didn't stop. Of course, if they did, they wouldn't have anyone to do the work. Still, they tried all kinds of things. They even made us sign a contract saying that we would not work for a competing business, or accept gifts associated with the company."

"Who would want to give gifts to Sunpeak?"

He laughed. "I wasn't surprised when they got into trouble over their finances. I was just surprised that Cal wasn't convicted of embezzlement."

"If he was guilty, he did a good job of hiding it. Cal may be a vicious bastard, but he isn't stupid."

The waitress brought them their soup and they ate for a moment in silence before Jack went on. "There was also a statement in this contract that we couldn't date co-workers. They were so vague about it that it could have been construed that if you happened to meet a co-worker in Walmart and talked to them, you might be in trouble."

"I guess that falling in love with the CEO's fiancée was definitely off-limits."

"Well, Cal certainly thought so. He did his best to put an end to things."

"Justice prevailed, for once."

"The sad thing was, a lot of people just signed the thing without even looking at it. They could have been signing their lives away, and they wouldn't have even noticed."

"Did you look it over first?"

"Uh-huh. And then they wanted the papers back, and didn't give us copies even though they said they would. There was something really wrong there."

"Did anyone question it?"

He nodded. "Two of the women who worked at the same table as me were trying to pick it apart, bit by bit. They questioned everything, and then a few other people started questioning it, too. If more people had questioned it, or refused to sign it, we might not have had to deal with it."

Rose shook her head. "It's sad how so many people are so apathetic. The world could be a much better place if people didn't simply accept things."

"You don't simply accept things."

"I did, sometimes. I accepted the engagement to Cal, even though I knew it was a mistake from the start." She looked down at her bowl of soup.

"But you eventually got out of it."

"Yes, after things had hit rock bottom."

"Sometimes that's what it takes. Sometimes things have to get really bad before you can take the necessary steps to get out of them."

"I wish I'd learned that lesson sooner."

"Me, too." His hand wandered absently to the scars on the back of his head. "But I don't think either of us is ever going to forget."

"Probably not." They were silent for a moment. "I'm not sorry that Cal is in prison. We're safe from him now."

"For a while, at least. Hopefully we'll know when he finally gets out. I don't want to be anywhere near when he does."

"Neither do I. I don't trust him."

"I wonder why." He changed the subject. "It's strange. Sometimes I still expect to see Fabrizio walk in the door after work, grumbling about how stupid Sunpeak is, or see him and Helga together, or see him talking to the neighbors across the street, even though I know he's gone." He paused. "It seems a little more real, now that I've seen his grave."

"Maybe you needed a chance to say good-bye."

"Maybe." He sighed. "It all seems like such a waste. He had so much going for him, and then, all of a sudden, everything's gone. He'll never get to be an American citizen or see his son. He tried so hard, but what was the use?"

"He did the best he could in life. That's all any of us can do. He was your best friend and Helga's husband. In a few months, Helga will have their baby." She shook her head. "Sometimes I feel the same way about Trudy. I expect to see her someplace or have her call, even though I know she won't. It's kind of hard to say good-bye."

"It is. That earthquake changed the lives of a lot of people."

"Including us."

He nodded, pushing his soup bowl aside as the waitress set their dinners on the table. After she had left, Rose continued.

"I guess that we'll eventually move on. Sometimes disasters happen, and those who survive—like us—have to keep going, even if it's sometimes hard."

*****

It was past seven when they left, heading for home. They made their way down the mountain roads in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. About halfway down, Jack pulled over at a lookout point and they got out of the car to walk around.

Rose glanced at Jack curiously. He seemed oddly nervous. She wondered what he was thinking about. They walked over to the safety railing at the edge of the cliff and looked out across the valleys.

It was almost completely dark, and they could see the bright glitter of lights from the cities in the valley, sparkling through the night like a thousand colorful stars. Overhead, the real stars twinkled brightly in the sky, through the vast, endless reaches of space.

A shooting star flashed overhead. Rose nudged Jack's arm, pointing to it.

"A shooting star! Aren't we supposed to wish on it?"

He smiled. "My dad used to say that every time you saw a shooting star, it was a soul going to heaven."

"I like that." They were silent for a moment.

"What would you wish for?" Jack asked her, turning his attention from the sky to Rose's face.

"I don't know," Rose told him honestly. "I have everything I could want. What about you?"

He didn't answer. Looking back out at the cities, he turned to her. "Rose...there's been something I've been wanting to ask you..."

"What is it?"

"I...we've known each other for quite a while now...we've been together for quite a while..." He trailed off.

"And?"

He ran a hand through his hair nervously, then looked at her again. "Rose, will you marry me?" The words came out in a rush.

Rose's eyes widened. "I—I—" she stammered, not sure what to say. Images flashed through her mind, memories of the good times they had spent together, of the way they had leaned on each other when times got rough. But other thoughts were there, too—memories of her engagement to Cal, memories of some of the awful things she and Jack had said and done to each other when he was sick. Though things had worked out between them, she was still uneasy about the prospect of taking such a big step.

"Jack, I—" She stopped. She loved him with a depth that she had never known was possible, but she knew that there were things they had to work out before she could make such a commitment. She wanted to be with him, wanted to spend her life with him, but she had to be sure that they were doing the right thing.

"I don't know," she told him, pleading with her eyes for him to understand. She did love him, but the prospect of marriage frightened her. She had been through too much, seen too much, to just jump into something so serious.

"Will you at least think about it?"

Rose nodded, relieved. "I'll think about it."


	44. Starting Anew 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Four

_Monday, September 1, 2003_

Neither Jack nor Rose spoke of the proposal in the week that followed—not to each other, and not to anyone else. Rose's thoughts bounced back and forth on the subject—she loved him, but she was afraid of making a mistake as she had with Cal. Although she knew that Jack and Cal had little in common, the fear was still there.

Late on Labor Day afternoon, more than a week after the proposal, Rose followed Jack out front after dinner to speak privately to him. She didn't want Helga and Tommy to know about it until they had made a decision one way or another.

Jack was turning off the water that kept the flower bed green when Rose came up to him.

"Jack," she started.

"Hmm?"

"About what you asked me last week..."

"Yes?"

"I think we need to talk before we can make any decisions either way."

He pulled the hose from the flower bed and coiled it up beside the faucet. "You're right. We do."

"Why don't we go for a walk?"

Jack looked inside briefly to tell Tommy and Helga that they were going off for a while, then walked beside Rose to the end of the driveway. "Which way do you want to go?"

"How about toward the hills?"

He nodded, starting across the street. Rose followed him, pausing as two of the little kids at the house across the street yelled to them through the fence.

After talking to them for a moment, they continued on, around the block and up the dirt road toward the open hills. They were silent, each thinking about what needed to be said.

Jack and Rose made their way to the top of a small hill and sat down together on a rock, reaching to hold each other's hands. The days were shorter now, but there was still some daylight left, and a cool breeze blew around them, cutting the heat of the late summer weather and rustling the grass and brush atop the hill.

"Jack," Rose began, a little hesitantly. "I...there's something I think I should try to explain about...about how I feel about getting married, and why I feel that way."

"Okay."

"I...my first engagement was a disaster. I didn't want to marry Cal in the first place, but Mom coerced me into it, threatening to put me out on the streets if I didn't agree to the marriage. Now I know that there were things I could have done to take care of myself, things worse than being homeless, but...I didn't know that then. I had just graduated from high school that day, and the sudden freedom, if you can call it that, was...unnerving."

"Why was your mother so set on your marrying Cal?"

"She told me that it was because she wanted the best for me, but later, when I was getting ready to move out of her house and into the one we live in, I remembered that right about the time I had gotten engaged, Mom had been awarded several new designing contracts—courtesy of Titan Construction." Rose looked up at him. "She sold me, Jack, to further a career that she isn't really happy in."

"She sold you?!" Jack exclaimed. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Rose's voice was flat. "She was so blinded by the idea of money and status that she couldn't see what she was doing to me."

Jack shook his head. "Why didn't you say something when you found out? As far as I know, selling people is illegal."

"I'm an adult, Jack—I didn't have to go along with her plans. But I did. If she had done the same thing when I was a child, I would have a case against her. But as an adult, it was my own lack of judgment that put me in the position I was in."

"She acted as though she were your…your madam!"

"Be that as it may, she's still my mother, Jack. And I won't say that I hated Cal—I didn't, at least not then—but I didn't love him. Mom told me that romantic love wasn't all it was cracked up to be—she and Dad didn't have a happy marriage, except for maybe the first year or two. They fought constantly when I was growing up, and Dad looked for...affection...elsewhere. They didn't want to divorce, because they were worried about the effect it would have had on me. I think it would have been better if they had split up, but they didn't. Dad died when I was sixteen, and...I don't think Mom was all that sorry to see him go. They'd been fighting for so long..."

"You still miss him, don't you?"

Rose nodded. "Yes. He was more understanding than Mom, though he was seldom around. He avoided her as much as possible. I looked at the families of my friends and wondered why my family couldn't be more like theirs. I've since learned, of course, that nothing's perfect, but I think they would have been happier apart." She paused. "At any rate, Mom wanted me in a solid, stable marriage. I'm not sure why. This is the twenty-first century, after all, and I don't need a husband for security, but I think she was afraid that I would find a man like Dad. Instead, she almost married me off to a man far worse than Dad could ever have been. Dad, at least, never...beat Mom, or tried to control her. They just didn't get along."

"And you're afraid that you might make the same mistake that you made before, the same mistake that your parents made."

She nodded. "That's part of it. Some of what happened when you were sick...it was pretty terrible. I love you, but...I don't know where we stand. We both said and did some awful things, and even though it never got as ugly and vicious as it did with Cal...it still worries me."

"It came close, though. Rose...I'm sorry about what happened when I was sick. That day that I hit you—I didn't have a good reason to do so, and I shouldn't have done it."

"No, you shouldn't have...but I don't blame you. You weren't in control of yourself. I think that day was kind of a turning point—if you hadn't hit me, the other things wouldn't have happened, and you would never have sought help, or been treated for the head injury. Most likely, you would be dead now." She grimaced. "I didn't behave so well myself."

He shook his head. "You were within your rights to retaliate."

"Dumping the pan of water over your head, yes. Chasing you with the knife, no."

"After all you'd been through, it wasn't right that you should have had to go through that."

"And that was part of why you tried to kill yourself the following week, wasn't it? I recognized the knife you used."

He nodded, not looking at her. "It was. I didn't...want to cause you anymore pain."

Rose leaned against him. "You would have caused me much more pain if you had succeeded. But I don't think that, deep inside, dying was really what you wanted to do. Many times, when a person attempts suicide, it's a cry for help. It was for you...and for me."

"I hadn't even been thinking that someone might be hurt by my...death. I only thought of the trouble I had caused for so many people, and was causing even then. I felt that you would be better off without me."

Rose hugged him. "We wouldn't have been. Suicide affects more than just the person who kills themselves. The day that you attempted it, a woman called the mental health clinic, crying so hard I could barely understand her. Her son had committed suicide the week before, and she was so upset she didn't know what to do. She said that she should have known what was happening, because he'd suddenly seemed much happier and had been giving his favorite possessions away. After I'd transferred her call, I realized that she could have been describing you. I rushed home—"

"—and got there just in time to save my life. Rose, I promise you, I will never try to take my own life again."

"Nor will I," Rose told him, leaning closer against him as he put his arms around her. "Life is too precious to give up so easily." She looked down. "For the time that you hit me...I think I've already paid you back in spades."

"When?"

"That day, after I brought you home from the emergency room, I was so angry that I wasn't thinking about what I was doing. I knew that grabbing your cut wrist would hurt you—but I didn't think about it. And I knew that I shouldn't slap you—but I was so upset that I didn't think. I felt bad when I slapped you and saw the red mark on your face, but I was so angry with you..."

After a moment, Jack spoke again. "Rose, I don't blame you. I would have been angry, too, if the situation was reversed. Things were different when we first met—I didn't know you; I only knew that I had to stop you from jumping. But you knew me, and cared...I think it's time we both forgave ourselves and each other. I can promise you two things right here—I will never try to kill myself again, and I will never hit you again. You have my word on that."

Rose looked up at him. "I believe you, Jack. I trust you."

It was growing dark. Jack got to his feet, helping Rose up. She leaned against him as they walked down the hill, hand in hand.

"Let's go home."


	45. Starting Anew 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Five

It was dark by the time they reached home, but the night was warm and the doors of the house were open. As they approached the front door, they could hear Tommy and Helga bickering over the remote. Jack turned to Rose.

"Why don't we go around the back?" he asked her as Helga began to yell at Tommy for channel surfing. Rose nodded, suppressing a smirk, and followed Jack to one of the side gates.

They walked through the backyard, leaning against the wall near the porch. The back door was open, but it was quiet now, Tommy and Helga having ended their argument and agreed on what to watch.

Jack looked at Rose. Even in the dim light from the porch, he could see that she looked pensive, her blue eyes thoughtful. Her curly red hair was tied up atop her head against the heat, but half of it had come down and was hanging down her back.

Looking at her, Jack realized that she had not yet given him an answer to his proposal and wondered if he should bring it up again. There was something special about Rose, something that he had recognized from the start. They were more than just a couple; they were close friends who had been there for each other through both good times and bad. His parents had had such a relationship, sticking with each other through thick and thin, and though he had often been embarrassed by them when he was a teenager, after they were gone he had realized just how good it had been and how they had transferred that closeness to their child. He knew that his own relationship with Rose was similar and knew that he wanted to spend his life with her. But he also knew that her experience with being engaged and with being a part of a family had not always been pleasant, so he understood why she was hesitant now.

He was about to bring up the proposal again when Rose spoke up. "Jack," she began slowly. "There's...I've been thinking...we need to talk about something else."

"What?"

"You know...an important thing...we...we haven't...brought it up."

"What important thing?" Jack was getting confused.

"You know..."

"No...I don't know. What are we talking about?"

"I guess it's stupid..."

"What is?"

"...but it's important. At least, I think so."

"Rose, I hate to say this, but you're really starting to confuse me here. What are you talking about?"

She took a deep breath. "Okay...do I...do you...find me interesting?"

Jack gave her an odd look. "Of course you're interesting."

Rose shook her head, realizing that he hadn't quite understood her. "No. That's...not quite what I meant. I'm talking about...ah...intimate relations." She blushed.

"Intimate relations?" He was still confused for a moment. Then he realized what she was talking about. "Oh...yes. That. What about it?"

"We...we haven't...made love...since that evening in May...almost four months ago." She could feel her face turning red and was suddenly glad for the darkness that hid it. "I...I wondered if...well...if I...disappointed you."

"Disappointed me?" He looked surprised. "No, not at all. That was the best I ever—" He clapped a hand over his mouth, suddenly aware of what he was saying.

Rose leaned her head against the wall, only half-looking at him. "Yeah," she said. "For me, too." She put a hand over her red face. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Jack was turning red, too. "But...you seemed so hesitant then...and after that...you didn't seem interested at all."

"The reason I was a little hesitant then was because, after what you told me, I was worried that it might be a bad idea, that it might hurt you in some way."

"You didn't hurt me," Rose assured him. "If I'd thought that you would, I wouldn't have...seduced you."

He nodded. "Later, after I got hurt...you're right, I wasn't interested, but it didn't have anything to do with you. No one interested me. For that matter, not much of anything interested me, no matter what it was. I just didn't feel well."

"You were pretty sick," Rose agreed. "That one night, the night before you tried to kill yourself, I was almost expecting that you would want to...come to bed with me. But you just backed off and walked away."

"I was having second thoughts about suicide even then, and I knew that if I spent the night with you, it would be even harder to do what I thought needed to be done."

"I was a bit hurt that you just walked away."

"I know you were, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't have been very pleasant to be around anyway, though, since I spent a good part of the night getting sick and then falling apart. I kept reminding myself that it would be over soon, but it didn't seem to help."

"And if you had joined me that night, I might have found out just what was going on and talked you out of it."

"I didn't want anyone to know until it was too late to do anything about it."

Rose felt a chill, remembering a night when she had felt the same way. Pushing the memory to the back of her mind, she told him, "You're better now."

"Yes."

"But even...even over the last few weeks, when you've been home, you never...showed much interest in me."

"Things were a little uncomfortable between us for a while. If you wanted to make love, why didn't you say something?"

"I wasn't sure how you would react. I guess I was a little embarrassed. I kept waiting for you to make the first move—like when you drew me wearing that necklace. I don't think your mind was just on drawing."

He blushed. "Well, half of it was. The other half was telling me to put down the pencil and join you on the couch."

"But you didn't."

"No, I finished the drawing. It would have been unprofessional to abandon it for...other activities."

"And besides, Tommy might have walked in on us—again."

"Can you imagine how much that would have embarrassed him? If he was shocked by just seeing us sitting up in bed, covered by the sheet, what do you think he would have thought if he'd seen something more?" Jack shook his head. "He…uh…he saw me bring girls home before, but that never bothered him. Maybe he has a crush on you or something."

Rose groaned. "I hope not. That would be…really awkward, to say the least." She turned to Jack, opening her mouth to speak, but he was already saying something.

"You know, we could..." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Rose threw her arms around his neck, kissing him back and remembering what she had been missing all these months. When they broke apart for a second, she urged him towards a darkly shadowed area of the lawn.

At that moment, Helga opened the screen on the back door. "Tommy's going out for a bit and I'm locking up. Don't forget to lock the back door."

Jack and Rose turned towards her, Jack mumbling something unpleasant under his breath. "You have the worst timing. Do you know that?"

Helga looked confused for a moment, then grinned knowingly. "Sorry." She turned and went inside, leaving the screen open.

Jack and Rose looked at each other, the mood broken. "She's not sorry," Jack complained. "She's getting back at me for teasing her and Fabrizio about coming out here for marathon make-out sessions."

Rose rolled her eyes. "What did you do that for?"

Jack shrugged. "Well…it seemed funny at the time."

Rose gave him a quick kiss. "Maybe we should wait until our wedding night," she told him.

It took Jack a moment to comprehend what she'd said. "Then your answer is—"

"Yes," Rose interrupted him. "Yes, Jack, I'll marry you. I love you."

Jack smiled, and then, before Rose could say another word, he picked her up and whirled her around, laughing with joy. Rose shrieked in surprise.

"Jack! No! What are you doing? Put me down!"

He did, but only after whirling her around one more time. Rose stumbled against him dizzily, giggling.

He caught her. Rose threw her arms around him, kissing him soundly.

After a moment, they separated and Rose spoke to him again.

"There's just a few things."

He frowned. "What things?"

"I want a short engagement and a small wedding, with just friends and family."

He nodded. "We can do that."

"And," she added, seeing him reach into his pocket, "I don't want an engagement ring."

Jack stopped, holding the ring he had taken from his pocket. "Are you sure?"

Rose remembered the flashy ring Cal had given her. "I'm sure."

"Not even this one?" He held out the ring, a sterling silver band delicately etched with a pattern of roses and butterflies.

"Jack, I..."

"If you don't want it as an engagement ring, will you accept it as a gift? I saw it in a shop near to where I work and thought you'd like it."

"It's lovely." Rose looked at the ring again. Jack had obviously thought about what she would like—something simple but pretty. The ring suited her.

"I'll accept it," she told him after a moment. "…as an engagement ring."

He slipped the ring on her finger, holding her hand up to the light. Rose looked at it admiringly.

"How did you know my ring size?"

Jack looked a bit embarrassed. "Uh…I looked in your jewelry box when you weren't home and measured one of your rings. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. When Cal gave me an engagement ring, he didn't even think about whether it would fit…it had to be resized so it wouldn't cut off my circulation." She gave him a hug. "Thank you, Jack," she whispered, kissing him again.

They stood that way for a while, until they heard the front door slam, indicating that Tommy was home.

"Should we announce it now?" Jack asked Rose.

"I think so. And maybe we can pick a date while we're at it?"

"Sure." Jack put his arm around her, walking her inside.

Tommy was turning the television back on when they came inside. Helga came out of the kitchen as they came into the living room, a glass of water in her hand. "What's going on?" she asked, noticing the adoring looks they were giving each other.

"We have an announcement to make," Rose told them. She looked at Jack, a smile spreading across her face. "Jack and I are getting married."

Their roommates stared at them for a moment, surprised. Finally, Tommy spoke up.

"Well, I guess congratulations are in order. Actually, I'm surprised it took you this long to decide to get married. You already act like a married couple sometimes."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Jack asked. Then, reconsidering, he told Tommy, "Don't answer that."

"So, when is the wedding?" Helga interrupted.

"We haven't decided yet," Rose told her, going into the kitchen to look at the calendar on the wall. She flipped the pages thoughtfully, her mind going over all the things they would need to do. Of course, it would be a small wedding, but it would still take time to plan.

"How about October fourth?" she suggested, looking at Jack. "That's the first Saturday in October."

"Sounds good to me."

"That's only a month away," Helga protested. "How do you expect to plan a wedding in only a month?"

"It's going to be a small wedding. Just family and friends…and neither of us has much family."

"Still..."

"I can do it," Rose assured her.

"I think you're crazy, but with some help, it just might work."


	46. Wedding 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Six

_Tuesday, September 2, 2003_

Preparations for the wedding began the next day. Jack asked Tommy to be best man. He agreed, though it was with a bit of melancholy. Jack had always assumed that Fabrizio would be best man at his wedding, as Jack had been at Fabrizio's. But Fabrizio was gone now, though Jack couldn't help but suspect that his old friend would be there in spirit.

Rose talked Helga into being her matron of honor. Helga was reluctant at first—the idea of appearing in front of all those people with her swollen middle didn't really appeal to her—but finally gave in. She was the only one of Rose's friends who had ever been married before, and as such was the only one who could be matron of honor.

After she came home from work that afternoon, Rose set about calling her friends and relatives to tell them about the wedding and invite them to see her married.

Ruth was the family member that lived closest, but Rose was reluctant to call her, not knowing what she would think of her daughter's upcoming nuptials. Ruth had been more than happy to see Rose preparing for her wedding to Cal, in spite of the kind of person Cal had turned out to be, but Rose somehow doubted that her mother would be so happy about Jack. Ruth had met him only once, but he certainly wasn't what she had had in mind for her daughter.

Instead, Rose called Sophie first, hoping that Sophie had left her cell phone on for a change. Sophie often neglected to turn her phone back on after turning it off for class. As such, they mostly communicated by e-mail, and Rose often dropped by when Sophie came home for the weekend, but this was something she thought she should tell her right away.

To Rose's surprise, Sophie picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Sophie. It's Rose."

"What's going on? I just got out of class."

"Well..." Rose looked at the list of people she wanted to call, smiling to herself. "Are you busy on October fourth?"

"No," Sophie replied, a bit puzzled. "Why?"

"Jack and I are getting married that day, and I was wondering if you would like to be a bridesmaid."

Sophie squealed in excitement, so loudly that Rose held the phone away from her ear, wincing. "Sorry," Sophie said after a minute. "Rose, this is so exciting! You and Jack are actually getting married?"

"We are," Rose confirmed. "Do you want to be a bridesmaid?"

"Oh, of course. I've gotta tell you, I think you'll do a lot better with Jack than with Cal."

"I think so, too." Rose's voice was slightly ironic.

"Sorry, Rose. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"It's okay," Rose assured her. "I have better things to think of now than Cal."

"I'll say! You're getting married in just a month."

"Yeah. Helga thinks I'm crazy for trying to put a wedding together on such short notice, but I think I can do it."

"I'm sure you can. You always were able to get things to work."

"Most of the time."

"Yeah. What kind of dress are you going to wear?"

"I haven't decided yet. Certainly not the one that I was supposed to wear to my wedding with Cal. I never liked that dress."

"Then why did you choose it?"

"I didn't. Mom did."

"Oh." Sophie's voice was understanding. She had witnessed some of the confrontation between Ruth and Rose when Rose had moved out of her mother's house.

"I was thinking," Rose told her. "For the bridesmaid dress—I'm only going to have one bridesmaid—I think you should wear the dress you wore at Helga and Fabrizio's wedding. Do you still have it?"

"Yeah, I still have it."

"Good. Bridesmaid dresses are expensive, and that one looks pretty nice. You can wear it other places, too."

"I know. I wore it to a formal dance." Sophie paused. "It's too bad Trudy won't be there."

"I know," Rose said quietly. "Remember how we used to always say that we would be bridesmaids or maids of honor at each other's weddings?"

"I remember. Trudy thought it was great that you were getting married to Cal. I wonder what she would have thought if she'd found out what he was really like."

"I don't know. Trudy could always find something good about everyone. She was the sort of person who could have befriended a serial killer and gotten away with it."

"I think she would have been happy to see you marrying Jack. Remember how she once said that if you weren't engaged to Cal, you should have gone after Jack?"

"When did she say that?"

"Last New Year's Day. I think you had a hangover."

"I did. Too much champagne at Cal's New Year's Eve party."

"You know you're too young to drink."

"I know. I know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I bet you didn't think so the next morning."

"Nope." Rose glanced up as Helga came in. "Listen, Sophie, I have several other people to call, so I'd better go. I'll e-mail you later, okay?"

"Sure. Bye, Rose."

"Bye."

"Who were you talking to?" Helga wanted to know.

"Sophie. She's going to be my bridesmaid."

"Is she going to wear the dress from my wedding?"

"Yep. She's okay with it. She already wore it to a formal dance."

"Good to know all that sewing I did was good for something."

"I've still got my dress."

"Good."

Rose picked up the phone again, realizing that she should let Trudy's family know what was happening. She had seen them only a couple of times since Trudy's funeral, but they had been like a family to her all the years that she and Trudy had been friends, so she wanted to invite them to her wedding.

Kay Bolt answered. "Bolt residence."

"Kay? This is Rose."

"Oh, hi, Rose. What's going on, sweetie?"

"Do you remember Jack Dawson? He was a friend of Trudy and me."

"Sure I remember him. What about him?"

"Jack and I are getting married on October fourth, and you and Jason are invited. Scott, too, if he's around."

"Well, congratulations Rose. We'd love to be there. I don't know if Scott will be around, but Jason and I will be there."

"Thank you, Kay. I just wish Trudy could be there."

"I wish she could, too, sweetie. Where is your wedding going to be held?"

"We haven't quite figured that out yet. We'll send you a formal invitation when we have it figured out."

"Okay, Rose. Good luck."

"Thanks." Rose hung up, realizing that she hadn't had to look for Trudy's number in her phone…she still knew it by heart. She had almost expected Trudy to ask her mother who was on the phone and then settle in for a long chat with Rose.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Rose quickly called her maternal grandmother in Palm Desert, leaving a message on the answering machine. She wasn't surprised that no one was home; her grandmother was a successful psychologist, and her step-grandfather often assisted with the enormous amount of paperwork required. She didn't worry about it, knowing that her grandmother would call her back when she returned home.

Her fingers clicking the buttons on the phone, Rose scrolled through the numbers until she came to the names of her farthest away relatives—her paternal grandparents, Michael and Cora Bukater, who lived in Philadelphia. She hoped that they could come to her wedding. She hadn't seen them since her father had died almost three years earlier.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Grandma!" In the background, Rose could hear barking. She smiled, shaking her head. Apparently they still had the brainless mutt that her grandfather had picked up in front of Walmart a few years earlier. The animal cowered in terror at the sound of the doorbell, but barked ferociously at the telephone.

"Hello, Rose. I wondered if you were ever going to call." Cora's voice was cool.

"What do you mean?"

"I expected you to call, or write, when your grandfather had his stroke—"

"Grandpa had a stroke? When?"

"In March. Didn't your mother tell you?"

"No."

"I called her, and she assured me that she would tell you."

"She never said a word about it."

"Typical." Cora Bukater had disliked Ruth from the start.

"Is Grandpa okay?"

"He's doing better. They weren't sure he was going to survive at first, but he pulled through. He still has trouble getting around, but he's improving."

"That's good. I would have called if I'd known."

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted your mother to tell you."

"Grandma..."

"I'm sorry, dear, but your mother makes me so mad sometimes..."

"She makes me mad, too. I don't live with her anymore."

"Well, I wouldn't think so, seeing that you got married in June."

"She really hasn't said much. I didn't marry Cal, Grandma. He's in prison now for trying to murder me and someone else."

"He tried to murder you?!"

"Yes, and my friend Jack."

"Why?"

"He was jealous of Jack and me."

"Let me guess. He thought that you and Jack were more than friends."

"We were by that time. I'd already broken the engagement when he tried to kill us."

"Why, that filthy little bastard..."

Rose smiled. Her grandmother could voice her displeasure very explicitly when she thought there was a reason to. "Grandma, what I was calling you about is..."

"Yes?"

"Well, Jack and I both survived the murder attempt, and now we're engaged. Our wedding is on October fourth. I was hoping that you and Grandpa could attend."

There was silence for a moment. "Rose, dear, I wish we could come, but I just don't think it's going to be possible. Your grandfather is still having a fair amount of trouble getting around and doing things for himself, and Philadelphia is such a long way from California..."

"I understand, Grandma." Rose's voice was sad.

"Don't sound so down-hearted, Rose. You're about to get married. It's going to be one of the happiest events of your life." She paused. "I was thinking...if your grandfather is recovered enough to travel by April, perhaps we could fly out to California in time for your birthday."

Rose smiled, her disappointment forgotten. "I'd like that, Grandma. You'll be able to meet Jack, too."

"Is he good to you, Rose?"

"Oh, yes. He's one of the nicest people I've ever met. I love him more than I thought it was possible to love anyone."

"Are you living with him now?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"We live in the same house, which we share with two other people, but we have separate rooms."

"Well, that's good. Behave yourself, dear."

"Grandma..."

"I know. I'm taking all the fun out of things. I'd best let you go, Rose, before your phone bill gets too high."

Rose laughed, knowing that her grandmother had never quite understood the concept having a certain number of minutes available on a cell phone. "Okay. Bye, Grandma. We'll send you some wedding pictures."

"All right. Good-bye, Rose."

Rose hung up the phone, dreading confronting the one person she still needed to call—her mother. How could her mother have kept something as important as the fact that her grandfather had had a stroke from her?

Rose was tapping in Ruth's number, half-hoping that she wouldn't be home, when Jack walked in. He gave her a quick kiss before heading down the hall to put his work supplies away. When he came back out, Rose was talking to Ruth.

"Mom? It's Rose."

"Hello, Rose. Why are you calling?"

Rose gritted her teeth. Her mother wasn't making this easy. "I have a question for you."

"About what?"

"Why didn't you tell me that Grandpa had a stroke back in March? I just called them, and only now found out about it."

"I guess it just slipped my mind, among all the other things going on."

"How could you forget something that important?"

"As I said, it slipped my mind."

"How much wine had you drunk before Grandma called you?"

"Rose!" Ruth's voice held a warning note.

Rose decided not to push her further. "I have an announcement."

"Which is?"

"I'm engaged."

"To who?"

"To Jack—remember Jack? The one that Cal shot?"

"And given your experience with being engaged, why are you now planning on marrying Jack?"

"Because I love him, Mom."

"Didn't you listen to a thing I said about love? You know what can happen when the bloom wears off."

"I know, but I'm willing to take that risk. For all the couples who discover that they weren't right for each other, there are many others who made the right choice, and I know that marrying Jack is the right choice. We've been there for each other through thick and thin, and I'm glad to be engaged to him."

"Well, congratulations." Ruth's voice was sarcastic. "When's the big day?"

"October fourth."

"I wish you luck. Don't expect me to be there."

"Of course not. I wouldn't want you to have to take time off from your precious work."

"If you were making a smart choice, Rose, I would take the time to be there. But I don't think you are. I think you're making the biggest mistake of your life—"

"The biggest mistake of my life was letting you coerce me into getting engaged to Cal. Good-bye, Mother."

Rose hung up, slamming the phone down on the table furiously. She turned, noticing that Jack was watching her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, coming to stand beside her.

"I hate her!" Rose shouted, kicking the wall and leaving a black mark. She grabbed her sore toes, hopping up and down. Jack helped her to a chair.

"What did she do?"

"First, she 'forgot' to tell me that my grandfather in Philadelphia had a stroke back in March. He could have died, and I would never have known about it. Now, she's telling me that marrying you is the biggest mistake I'll ever make. She flatly refused to come to our wedding. She would have been more than happy to see me marry that fucking asshole son of a bitch Cal, but she won't even think of you as a good choice for me."

"She doesn't know me."

"It wouldn't matter, Jack. It really wouldn't. I messed up her plans, and she's not going to forgive me anytime soon, if at all." She crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw set. "I _know_ I'm making the right decision, even if _she_ can't acknowledge it."

Jack pulled her into his arms. "Rose, come on. Calm down. Did you tell anyone else that we're getting married?"

Rose leaned her head against his shoulder. "I called Sophie. She's going to be my bridesmaid. And I called Trudy's parents. They'll be there. My grandparents from Philadelphia won't be there, because my grandfather isn't able to travel yet, but I'm sure that my grandmother and step-grandfather in Palm Desert will be able to be here. They never miss an important occasion, except for my high school graduation, because they were away on their honeymoon. But even then, they came to visit a few days after they got back."

"You see? You'll have people here who will be happy to see you get married."

"But not Mom. She's supposed to be happy for me! She made such a fuss about my getting engaged to Cal..."

"But that was for her own gain."

"I know. But still..."

Jack changed the subject. "Where do you want the wedding to take place?"

"I was thinking that the church that I went to all those years would be a good place, if we can get it for October fourth. I don't go to church very often now, but I'd still like to get married there."

"That sounds good to me. I've never really gone to church much."

"I'll call Reverend Kilpatrick, then, and see if we can arrange it. If not, I'd like a small wedding right here at home, maybe in the backyard."

Jack hesitated. "I don't know that the backyard would be such a great place for a wedding. There's not much space—not if we want to have the reception here, too. If we can't get married in your church, why don't we hold the wedding up the hills a little ways?"

"Do you think we could?"

"I don't see why not. And it would be a beautiful setting."

Rose nodded. "I like it. Why don't we do that instead trying to get the church for that Saturday?"

"You really want to?"

"Yes. I'll still try to get Reverend Kilpatrick to marry us, though. I've known him since I was eleven."

"Okay." Jack stroked her hair. "It's going to work out, Rose. You'll see."

"Yeah. I hope so. Are you inviting your relatives?"

"I thought about it, but I decided not to. The only one who would want to come is Emmaline, and I'm pretty sure Uncle William wouldn't allow it. I e-mailed Emmaline about it, and if she chooses to tell the others, that fine, but I'm not going to call them and invite them. I don't need to give my uncle an excuse to give me trouble."

"He really doesn't like you, does he?"

"No."

"Helga told me a little bit about him. He doesn't sound very nice."

"He's very narrow-minded. Once he forms an opinion, he refuses to change it, and he sees everything in black and white. There is no in-between for him, even though in-between is usually where things fall in life."

"Were your parents like that?"

Jack shook his head. "No. They were always willing to give people a chance and willing to forgive. People liked them a lot. They were well-respected in Chippewa Falls."

"Do you think they would have liked having me as a daughter-in-law?"

"I think they would have. I think they would have loved you as much as I do."


	47. Wedding 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Seven

_Friday, September 5, 2003_

On Friday night, Rose and Helga drove to Southland to select patterns and fabric for Rose's wedding gown and Helga's matron-of-honor dress. Rose had looked at some wedding gowns in a shop, but after seeing the prices, she had decided that a homemade dress was more within her budget. Besides that, she could design a homemade dress to suit herself and her tastes, rather than what some designer thought a bride should look like. She wasn't an expert seamstress—Helga would have to help her with her project—but she did know how to sew, courtesy of long-ago summers spent with her grandmother in Philadelphia.

They went to one of Helga's favorite stores, Joann's Crafts and Fabrics. It sold all types of fabric, patterns, notions, and other sewing things. Helga had bought the materials for her own wedding gown and the bridesmaids' gowns there. Rose went directly to the pattern table, while Helga, who already had a pattern she wanted to use, looked at bolts of fabric. Rose thumbed through the catalogs, looking at the wedding dresses and formal gowns, but not finding anything that really suited her. On impulse, she turned to the costume section of the Simplicity catalog, knowing that some of the historical costumes might make good wedding gowns.

Halfway through the costume section, she found what she wanted—a long chiffon dress with a satin underskirt and sash. The chiffon sat in several layers, giving the dress a floating look. Rose got a copy of the pattern from the Simplicity drawer and went to show it to Helga.

Helga looked at it skeptically. "Rose, that's a costume."

"So? It's beautiful. This is the dress I want to make."

"Have you ever worked with chiffon? It's very unforgiving. You can't easily hide mistakes."

"I can learn. Besides, you know what you're doing."

"I have enough to do. You can make your own dress."

"I'm not asking you to make it. Just to help me." Rose gave her pleading, puppy-dog look.

Helga put her hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay. I'll help you make that dress. Let's find the fabric."

Rose did not object as Helga picked out a bolt of white chiffon, but when she reached for white satin for the underskirt and sash, she objected.

"I'd rather have a blue underskirt and sash, actually."

"It's traditional for a bride to wear white, at least at her first wedding."

"I'm only going to have one wedding if I have anything to say about it, and I want blue."

"White symbolizes purity—"

"Which doesn't apply to me." Rose's voice was terse. "I want blue. It will look better." Her voice was growing loud, and several people turned to look at her.

"Rose, calm down. I was just making a suggestion."

"Well, don't." Rose looked at Helga crossly, then picked out a bolt of deep blue satin. "This will do."

Helga sighed. "Okay. It's your dress. What kind of trim do you want?"

After Rose had selected a white brocade for the bodice of the dress and a pearl, lace, and ribbon trim, they went to the counter to have their selections measured and cut. Once that was done, they returned to the pattern table to select a veil.

Rose still had the veil that had been made to go with her first wedding dress, but she didn't want to wear it. It wouldn't have matched, and she didn't want to be reminded of her engagement to Cal. She flipped the pages of the catalogues, looking at pictures of veils and hats, before coming to a decision.

"I don't want a veil."

"Okay." Helga shook her head. "You'll have less work, anyway. What are you going to do with your hair?"

Rose considered it for a moment, then went back to the shelves of trim. Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she selected a roll of pearl trim, then went to the silk flower section and picked out some deep blue roses.

"Yes. That'll be good," she told Helga.

"What will? What are you doing?"

"I'm going to sew these flowers onto the beads to make a hair ornament, and then braid the rest of the trim into my hair. It'll be a perfect match," she added, looking at the color of the satin and the rose brocade pattern for the bodice.

Helga visualized this, then smiled. "I think it will suit you."

"Do you think Jack will like it?"

"Undoubtedly."

They paid for their purchases and left the store, going out into the dimly lit parking lot. The nights were beginning to grow cool again. Rose shivered slightly as she got into the car.

Handing Helga her bag, she turned on the ignition and then turned to her friend.

"I'm sorry I made such a fuss about the color of the dress in there. I was rude."

"Why does that bother you so much? The purity issue, I mean. This is the twenty-first century. No one's going to say anything if you're not a virgin on your wedding day—if anyone even knows."

Rose shrugged. "I just have some issues with it is all."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Rose shook her head. "No. It's something I have to work out for myself. Some things just bother me sometimes is all."

Helga nodded. "I guess it's kind of a private thing for you."

"Yes." Rose realized, though, that the real problem was not that she was not a virgin, or whether anyone knew it. The mention of purity had brought back the specter of Cal's angry face, his voice shouting at her and his fists hitting her as he accused her of being a slut, of being unfaithful. She sighed inwardly, wondering if the memories of Cal would always distress her this much.


	48. Wedding 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Eight

Jack and Rose began making arrangements for their wedding that weekend. At Rose's request, Jack designed the invitations and sent them out to all of the friends and family members they wanted to invite—even Jack's cousin, Emmaline, whose father wouldn't allow her to visit him, Rose's paternal grandparents, who wouldn't be able to attend, and Ruth, who had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with her daughter's wedding, though Rose secretly hoped that she would change her mind.

They walked into the hills together late on Saturday to select the spot for the wedding, finally choosing a place near enough to the road that it would be easy to get to but which wasn't visible to everyone passing by. Unfortunately, a number of people considered the hills to be the town garbage dump, and while they liked the wide open land with its sea of golden grass and fall flowers, Jack and Rose had no wish to be married amongst the trash. On Sunday afternoon, all four of the members of the household worked to clear away the garbage, finding a number of salvageable items that they chose to keep or bring in for recycling. Everything else was left at the real town dump.

Rose began work on her wedding dress, discovering that chiffon was indeed difficult to work with, but she was determined to have the dress she had chosen, even if Helga did give her long-suffering looks when Rose asked her repeatedly for help.

While they worked on their dresses, Rose and Helga discussed wedding decorations, concluding that not many would be needed. The rich natural setting of the hilltop that the engaged couple had chosen for their wedding place required no decorating, and the backyard of the house, where the reception would be held, would still be green from summer with late season flowers in bloom in early October.

Rose mentioned that she wanted to try to prepare the food for the wedding reception herself, but Helga, knowing that Rose's cooking often still left something to be desired, especially when she attempted to prepare fancy dishes, convinced the man who lived across the street to help cook for the wedding. He was a short-order cook, and while this was different from catering, he still knew how to cook very well and how to present food in an attractive way. He agreed to help for a much lower price than a professional caterer, as his family and the four roommates were on friendly terms, and in return he and his family were invited to the wedding.

On Sunday morning, Rose dragged a reluctant Jack along shopping with her, pointing out that there were things that they needed to buy to make it feasible for them to share one room. They would be sharing the master bedroom that Rose currently slept alone in, since Jack's smaller room was not really large enough. However, there were things that Rose insisted they needed, such as closet organizers so that they could store everything without it spilling out of the closet. Jack didn't quite see the need for this, but Rose brushed his half-hearted complaints aside, teasing him about not understanding neatness because he was a guy. In truth, he usually kept his space fairly clean, and it was sometimes neater than Rose's, but she couldn't resist teasing him good-naturedly.

One item that they both agreed they needed was a bed large enough for both of them to sleep comfortably. They each had their own twin bed, but they didn't want to sleep separately, and pushing the two beds together seemed inconvenient. So, after they had found a closet organizer that suited Rose, they wandered through the furniture department, looking at prices and testing out mattresses. Jack amused Rose and irritated the saleswoman by dramatically throwing himself down on a couple of mattresses to see how firm they were. Once Rose had stopped laughing and the saleswoman had stopped scowling, they finally selected an inexpensive queen-sized bed, asking that it be delivered the day before their wedding. Rose would dismantle her bed and put the parts in storage, while Helga had already claimed Jack's room as a nursery for her coming baby—as soon as he moved out of it.

In spite of the short length of time available to plan the wedding, things were going smoothly. Jack and Rose were looking forward to being joined in marriage.


	49. Wedding 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Forty-Nine

_Tuesday, September 9, 2003_

Rose rummaged through the kitchen cabinet, looking for the bag of spaghetti she had placed there a couple of days earlier. She smiled as the screen door opened and Jack walked in, home from work. He set his things down on the table and came up to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and kissing her in greeting.

"Hey," he said as Rose gave up her search for the spaghetti and turned around to kiss him back.

"Hmm," Rose murmured, pulling him close. "How was your day?"

"Great," Jack told her, letting go of her and going over to the table. He opened his bag and pulled out his work portfolio. "The Messner Agency got a new account for one of the companies that's moved into Masline since the earthquake, and I've been put in charge of the artistic design for their advertising."

"I hope you're not overtaxing yourself."

He shrugged. "I'm not. They want most of the work done on the computer, using photographs of the employees and merchandise, and that isn't too difficult once you figure out what to do. Besides, I'm allowed to delegate work if there's a lot of it."

"Management," Rose teased him, looking at the papers he showed her.

Jack made a face. "Who wants to be management? You have to do too much work and everyone hates you."

"You don't hate Messner."

"No, but he does our kind of work, too, so he's more like one of us than a boss. He doesn't act like he's better than us."

"Unlike a few bosses I can think of."

"Like the Fat Bastard at Sunpeak."

"What was his real name?"

"Mitchell. Everyone hated him. We always hoped he would fall through the floor. From what I hear, that's exactly what happened when the earthquake struck. I guess there is occasionally justice in the world."

"I can think of another boss who got exactly what he deserved."

"You mean Cal?"

"Uh-huh."

"I can think of few things that would be better than seeing him in jail. Like cracking him over the head."

"Jack..." Rose shook her head. "Let's forget about him. We've got more important things to think about than him."

"You're right." He pulled a completed advertising page out of his portfolio. "Two weeks ago, the agency started working on the advertising for one of the new stores that's coming into the rebuilt shopping plaza downtown, Speare Jewelers. Their grand opening was today, and they stay open until ten PM. What do you say we go down there tonight and pick out wedding rings?"

Rose smiled. "I wondered when we were going to get around to that. I was going to ask you about it, but you beat me to it. Sure. Let's go after dinner." She turned back to the cabinet, still searching for the spaghetti.

"What are you looking for?"

"The spaghetti I bought on Sunday."

Jack reached to a shelf above her head and gave it to her. "Here it is."

"It's nice to have a tall person around."

"Like you're so short. Do you want help making dinner?"

"If you could. The sooner we're done, the sooner we can go look for rings."

As they settled to work, Rose asked him, "Are you sure we can afford wedding rings? Neither of us has much money."

"I think we can, as long as we don't go for the really expensive ones."

"You mean like the enormous diamonds?"

"Yeah. Like those."

"I don't want one of those. I found my old engagement ring where Cal had dropped it a few days after the earthquake. I'm saving it in case we ever really need money. I think that plain gold would be best." She batted her eyelashes at him. "Gold looks so good with my red hair."

Jack laughed. "We'll see what they have. I think anything would look nice on you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Oh, yeah?" Jack put down his work and came over to kiss her.

"Well...maybe it'll get you somewhere." Rose kissed him back. "We'd better get dinner made. Tommy will be home soon, and I'm getting hungry." She stirred the pot of spaghetti to keep it from burning. "Besides, we want to get dinner finished before the store closes."

*****

As soon as the dinner dishes were washed, Jack and Rose headed downtown. A number of buildings had been repaired or replaced since the earthquake, including the building that had nearly trapped them when they had fled from Cal's bullets. The jewelry store was in the same shopping center. They looked toward the restored building as they walked, remembering that night. All traces of the earthquake had been cleared away from the spot, but they would never forget the terrifying feeling of being trapped in the collapsed building.

The jewelry store was in the next building, one of two that had been rebuilt in this shopping center. In the distance, still cordoned off, the collapsed buildings of the old movie theater, several fast food restaurants, and a number of stores still lay in rubble. Half of the parking lot had been fixed, but the other half was still cracked and buckled, with pieces of concrete and blacktop lying in heaps.

After looking at the debris for a moment, Jack squeezed Rose's hand and pulled her away from the sight. It was the first time he had been to this section of town since they had barely escaped with their lives. The amount of destruction was still distressing.

There were only a few people inside the store when they went inside. Most of the business was conducted during the day, though there were a few customers shopping in the evening.

A sales clerk came up to them. "Can I help you?" he asked, looking at them assessingly.

"We're looking for wedding rings," Jack told him. "We're getting married in about three weeks."

"Congratulations," the clerk said, leading them toward a display of gemstone rings.

The engaged couple looked at the rings for a few minutes, then decided against them.

"We were thinking more along the lines of plain gold," Rose told the clerk.

A bit disappointed that he wouldn't get a big commission, the clerk brought out a tray of gold wedding bands. Jack and Rose looked at them, talking over which one to get.

The least expensive set of rings were plain, pale gold bands, 10 karat gold, but Rose's eye was caught by a gold ring in a braided design. It cost about fifty dollars more, but when she saw it, she knew that it was the one she wanted.

She pointed it out to Jack. "I like that one. Do you think we can afford it?"

Jack looked at the price of the ring, and then at the price of a similar, though less elaborate, ring for himself.

"I think I can afford it," he told her.

"I'll help with the cost," she began, but Jack hushed her.

"Let me pay for this, Rose," he told her. When she started to protest, he said, "Let's do one thing traditionally. The groom usually buys the wedding rings, and I have enough saved that I can afford it."

Rose sighed, finally giving in. "All right. You can pay for them. We've shared the cost of most things, anyway."

Jack arranged to have the rings sized to fit them, then reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. He showed it to Rose.

"I was thinking of having something engraved on the inside of the rings," he told her, handing her the piece of paper.

Rose looked at it. On the paper were written the words _Never Let Go_ and the entwined initials J and R. Her eyes lit up.

"It's perfect, Jack. It's...us."

He took the piece of paper and handed it to the clerk, explaining what he wanted done. The clerk nodded, taking the paper and putting it into the box with the rings.

"When will they be ready?" Jack asked him.

"In about a week. We'll call when they're ready to be picked up."

Jack nodded, writing out a check for the cost of the rings, and then left the store, Rose walking beside him.

"That's quite a bit of money," Rose remarked as they got into the car.

"I know, but I haven't been able to give you much, and I wanted to give you a nice ring. I'd give you more if I could."

"I don't need more." Rose put her hand over his before he turned on the ignition. "I have you, and that makes me richer than I ever thought possible. I love you, Jack. Thank you...for everything."


	50. Wedding 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty

_Thursday, October 2, 2003_

Rose drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as she waited for the light to change. Her maternal grandmother, Kathleen Fleming, was going to be there late in the afternoon to help with the final preparations for the wedding, and Rose wanted to arrive home before her grandmother got there.

Most of the preparations for the wedding were complete. She had finished her wedding dress and hair ornament two days before, and had ordered bouquets for herself, her matron of honor, and her bridesmaid, to be delivered the morning of the wedding. The guests had been informed of where the wedding was to be held, and Jack had made signs pointing them in the direction of the spot where the ceremony would be.

It had taken longer than expected for the rings to be ready, but the jeweler had finally called the night before, and Jack had picked up the rings and carefully placed them where they wouldn't get lost before the wedding.

There wasn't much left to do, except for a final clean-up of the area where the wedding would be held, the posting of the signs directing people to the wedding, and the set-up for the wedding reception, but Kathleen had insisted upon coming down early to help. Rose didn't mind; she hadn't seen her grandmother or her step-grandfather in some time, and was looking forward to seeing them.

Rose beat her grandmother to the house, giving her the time to set her belongings aside and clean up a little of the mess in the room that she and Jack would soon share. They had been in the process of moving him in all week, and the room was in chaos. Fortunately, he had now brought over everything except for the few items he would need until Saturday, so they could clean up the mess.

It was after six when the Flemings arrived. All of the residents of the house were home by that time, and Jack and Rose were busy straightening up Rose's room, arguing occasionally over what went where and whether some things should be given away or kept. For the most part, they found space for everything they owned, but a few things they couldn't quite decide what to do with, and some items were put into storage in the rickety metal shed in the backyard or set aside to be donated to the Salvation Army.

Rose was in the kitchen, putting several coats and jackets away in the coat closet, when she saw her grandparents' car pull up beside the mailbox. Stuffing the last jacket into the closet, she rushed out to greet them.

Kathleen greeted her granddaughter with a hug, looking her over and nodding her head in approval. "You look much more content this time," she told her granddaughter.

Rose smiled. The last time she'd seen her had been right after Easter some months earlier, when she was still engaged to Cal. Her circumstances had changed a great deal since then, for the better.

"I am, Nana," she responded. "Everything's great. The sun is shining, the weather is pleasant, and we have almost everything ready for the wedding. Wait until you meet my fiancé. He's wonderful."

"Glad to hear it." David Fleming got out of the driver's seat and came around the car to greet his step-granddaughter. "I didn't think much of your last fiancé."

"Neither did I," Rose confessed, then laughed. "I think very highly of Jack, though. He's a good man, and I'm lucky to have found him."

Kathleen laughed as Rose threw her arms out and whirled around happily. Her joy was contagious.

Rose started up the front walk. "Dinner is almost ready, and of course you're welcome to eat with us. It's Tommy's turn to cook dinner, and he knew I was inviting guests, so he made extra. We're having chicken, microwaved potatoes, fruit salad, and green salad. Is that okay?"

"It's fine," Kathleen told her, following her into the house. "We apologize for being so late. They're doing road construction on the 10, and there were only two lanes open. You know how it long it takes to travel when the road is clogged with big rigs."

"That's okay." Rose grinned, looking at her grandmother. At sixty-five, Kathleen looked much younger. With her trim figure and red-dyed hair, she bore a great resemblance to her daughter Ruth, and had on occasion been mistaken for Ruth's sister, rather than her mother, which always pleased her. She was healthy and active, and had outlived one husband, raised three daughters, and made a successful career as a psychologist, opening her own practice and charging outrageous fees to her wealthy clients in Palm Desert and Rancho Mirage.

In contrast, her husband, David, was a short, heavy-set man with thinning hair gray hair and bifocals. An unprepossessing figure, he nevertheless possessed a keen intelligence, a sense of compassion, and a zest for life that matched his wife's. Two years younger than Kathleen, they appeared at first to be mismatched, but a closer look revealed an unshakable bond between the two.

Tommy was standing at the counter when they walked in. Rose hurried to make introductions.

"Nana, David, this is my roommate, Tommy Ryan. Tommy, these are my grandparents, David and Kathleen Fleming."

"Hi." Tommy looked at Rose's guests. He shook David's hand, then looked at Kathleen and remarked, "You don't look old enough to be Rose's grandmother."

"You have poor eyesight," she told him, but she beamed with delight when she said it. Three years before, when Rose's father had died and Kathleen's first husband had died just a short time later, Rose had come to stay with her for a while, and she had been delighted when people had mistaken Rose for her daughter, rather than her granddaughter.

Helga came out of her room to see what was going on, and Jack came down the hall a moment later, a streak of charcoal on his face giving him an unkempt look.

Rose repeated the introductions. "Helga, Jack, this is David and Kathleen Fleming, my grandparents. David, Nana, this my roommate, Helga de Rosa, and my fiancé, Jack Dawson." She put an arm around Jack, reaching up to wipe the smudge of charcoal from his face.

Jack laughed as Rose's fingers came away covered with black dust. "Pleased to meet you."

They responded in kind, looking him over assessingly. Jack swallowed nervously, knowing that they were judging whether he was right for their granddaughter.

"Dinner's ready," Tommy told them, opening the oven and removing a broiler pan of baked chicken.

David and Kathleen stopped assessing Jack for a moment as Rose directed them to seats at the table. She had borrowed a couple of folding chairs from their neighbors across the street to provide enough seats at the table for everyone.

Once dinner was started, the Flemings started questioning Jack, putting him through the third degree, asking him what he did for a living, what college he went to, how he treated Rose. He answered all of their questions honestly, looking them right in the eye as he did so.

Rose suppressed a smile. They had put Cal through the third degree, too, but he had never once looked directly at them, and had given them glib, smooth answers about the relationship between himself and Rose. Neither of the Flemings had thought very highly of him, but Ruth had beamed, delighted with the man she had found for her daughter.

It was obvious after a few minutes that they liked Jack much better. He was open and honest, and lacked the condescension that had annoyed them so much about Cal. Cal hadn't thought much of the fact the Kathleen was a psychologist, or that her husband was willing to help with her practice rather than trying to climb the corporate ladder himself. In contrast, Jack was genuinely interested in their work, asking insightful questions and taking their questions with a sense of humor.

Before dinner was over, Kathleen looked at Rose with a twinkle in her eye, letting her know that she approved.

*****

After dinner, Jack and Rose retreated to Rose's room for a short time to finish cleaning up. Jack had been putting away his art supplies before he came out to greet Rose's relatives, hence the charcoal smudge on his face.

The were only a couple of piles of things left to put away, and as Jack began putting his remaining clothes into the dresser he and Rose had dragged over from his room, Rose took a box of small items he had brought from his room and began putting them away. Stepping into the bathroom, she began setting them onto a shelf of the cabinet that she had cleared to make way for Jack's belongings, mentally ticking off what she wouldn't have to share with him. Shampoo, soap, toothpaste, shaving supplies, a bottle of aspirin, the remains of the bottles of valerian and ginger she had given him, a newly filled bottle of Prozac...

_Prozac?_ she thought, looking at the label again to be sure she wasn't mistaken. It was definitely Prozac. She recognized the capsules from the times she had given out prescribed medications at the mental health clinic. _Why is he taking Prozac?_ she wondered. She had thought he was completely recovered.

Jack stuck his head in the open door to see what she was doing and saw her with the bottle of Prozac in her hand. "I see you found that," he said quietly.

"Yes. Jack, why are you taking this? I thought you had recovered..."

"There was some minor brain damage," he explained, taking the bottle from her. "Something about the brain chemicals being reabsorbed too quickly."

"Serotonin," she told him. "It prevents serotonin from being reabsorbed too quickly. One of the psychiatrists at the mental health clinic told me that."

"That's where I get my prescriptions from. Dr. Lobb prescribed this for me before my surgery, and then Dr. Patel told me to keep taking it afterwards. I go in on the last Saturday of the month, which is why you haven't seen me there."

"Why didn't you tell me you were taking this?"

"I didn't want you to worry. You remember how awful I acted when I was sick. This keeps me from becoming depressed again." He put the bottle in the medicine cabinet, avoiding her eyes. "Besides, it really isn't something I like to talk about. Some people can be kind of judgmental about stuff like this, and I've had my fill of judgmental people."

Rose put her hand on his shoulder. "Jack, I won't judge you. It isn't your fault that you got hurt."

"I know, but some people might judge the aftermath of that injury as something I can control on my own, and I've already realized that I can't. It just doesn't work that way."

"Like you're supposed to be able to snap out of it on your own, and if you didn't want to feel that way, you wouldn't."

"Exactly. Ted told me that it's an illness, just like diabetes or heart disease would be, but a lot of people don't understand that."

"And they would say you were weak for not grinning and bearing it."

"Maybe I should try to tolerate it, but I feel much better taking this than not taking it. I may have to take it for the rest of my life, but—"

"But at least you're getting the treatment that you need. It isn't a sign of weakness. It's a sign of strength, and of wisdom, to know when you can't handle something all by yourself and ask for help." She put her arms around him, turning him to face her. "You're one of the strongest people I know."

"Thanks." He hugged her back, then kissed her. "I'm also one of the luckiest."

Rose thought of all the pain and trouble he'd endured. "How so?"

"I have you. How many men are lucky enough to find a woman who is so tolerant and understanding, who would give up justice for themselves for the sake of justice for him, who would put up with me even after what I put you through when I was sick?"

"I think we're both lucky, and I'm looking forward to marrying you on Saturday. When I was engaged to Cal, I looked at marriage as something to be dreaded, but now, I can't wait. I never thought I'd be this happy." She lifted her face to his, kissing him for a moment. "I love you, Jack."

"And I love you, Rose."

*****

At 8:30, Rose and Kathleen were sitting on the curb in front of the house, enjoying the cool autumn evening. In spite of the advancing season, the neighborhood's ice cream vendor was still making the rounds with his push cart, so Kathleen had bought an ice cream bar for herself and a Popsicle for Rose, who, in spite of being an adult, still liked the sugary frozen treats.

Rose looked up at the sky, the tip of the Popsicle in her mouth. The evening reminded of her of the times when she gone to visit her grandmother as a child. The DeWitts had lived in Newport Beach, just a few blocks from the ocean. Kathleen would buy her granddaughter a Popsicle or ice cream at the boardwalk, and then walk with her to the beach, watching her as she played in the water, hunted sand crabs, and built elaborate sand castles complete with seaweed decorations. Afterwards, she always escorted the tired but happy child back to the house and set her to watching cartoons on television.

After her first husband had died, Kathleen had moved to Palm Desert, opening her own counseling practice and eventually marrying David Fleming, who had originally come to work for her as a substance abuse counselor. They were partners now, with equal standing in the practice, though David did far less counseling now, considering himself semi-retired.

"Nana?" Rose took the Popsicle out of her mouth and looked at her grandmother.

"Yes?"

"What do you think of Jack? I mean, do you approve?"

Kathleen smiled, sensing that Rose wanted her approval, and also sensing that even if she disapproved of Jack, Rose would still marry him.

"Yes, Rose, I approve. He seems to be a fine young man. Certainly, I like him better than your last fiancé."

"Me, too." Rose smiled.

"What happened with Cal, Rose? I know that you weren't very happy with him, but you seemed determined to marry him."

Rose was silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke. "He was...abusive. I kept telling myself that things would get better, but they didn't, and I finally broke the engagement. Cal's in prison now."

"I know. I read about it in the newspaper. Attempted murder of you and Jack."

Rose sighed. "I knew, even when I got engaged, that I was making a mistake, but...I didn't really have a choice. Mom told me that if I didn't accept the engagement, she'd throw me out, and I had no place to go."

"You could have come to us, or gone to one of your friends."

"I know that, now, but that night...I had just graduated from high school, and...I suppose I was still naive about things. I thought that things would improve, that I would learn to love Cal. Such things do happen, but I suppose I should have followed my instincts that told me that it was a bad idea."

"And so you wound up in a bad situation."

"Yes. Things kept getting worse, but I was afraid to break off the relationship, even after things hit rock bottom. Jack told me that if I didn't break free, the fire in me was going to go out, but it was a week and a half before I realized that he was right and sought him out. He had told me that his home was open to me, so I took him up on that. By that time, I knew that I loved him, and I think that deep down, I knew that he loved me, too. I gave Cal back his ring, and...well, I've told you what happened next, with the framing and the earthquake and the shooting. I was absolutely terrified that Jack would die—he was so badly injured—but he pulled through."

"Why was your mother so set upon your marrying Cal?"

Rose took a deep breath. She hadn't told anyone but Jack about what her mother had done. "She...sold me to him, in exchange for several lucrative contracts with Titan Construction."

"You're kidding!"

"I wish I was. I really do, but that's what she did. She was so intent upon advancing her career that she used me as a pawn. She was furious when I broke the engagement—even though Cal was in jail—and made good on her promise to throw me out. Fortunately, by that time I realized that I had other options, so I got a job and came to live here."

"I just can't believe it. Your mother was always ambitious, always wanting more, but I just can't believe she used you to advance herself."

"She did, Nana. And later, when I called her to tell her that I was marrying Jack, she refused to come to the wedding, refused to have anything to do with me. She says that I'm making a big mistake, but I don't think I am. I think that getting engaged to Jack is one of the best decisions I've ever made." She paused. "Nana, I don't have anyone to give me away at my wedding. Dad's gone, and Mom won't be there. Maybe it's silly, since I'm independent now, but I'd like someone to escort me up the aisle and give me away. Could you do that?"

"I'd be honored to, Rose. I really wish, though, that your mother would be there when you get married. That's something a mother should see her daughter do. Maybe I'll go over and talk to her—"

"No, Nana! Please, don't do that. I've fought with her enough. I'm looking forward to my wedding, and I don't want her bitterness to ruin things for Jack and me. This is a happy occasion, and if Mom doesn't want to be a part of it, then...that's her decision. If she changes her mind, she's welcome to come—but she didn't answer the invitation I sent her, and she hasn't spoken to me since I announced that I was getting married. I don't know why she is the way she is, but I won't let her ruin this day for us. It's going to be a happy occasion—with or without Mom."

"Sometimes I wonder how she can be my daughter. I know she is, though—we look too much alike for her to have been switched at birth. Some people just turn out that way. Please don't be bitter toward her, Rose. I don't what her reasons are, either, but you got away from Cal, and you're happy now. I doubt she knew just what kind of person he was. I don't think you knew right away, either. People make mistakes, but there may come a time when you will want to be closer to her. Don't write her off. She's still your mother."

"I know, and I still love her, but she makes me so mad sometimes. I just don't understand her."

"She would probably say the same thing of you sometimes."

Rose shook her head. "I don't know. I remember that she and Dad fought every time they were together for years, over everything. Neither of them were happy, but they stayed together because of me. I think we all would have been better off if they had divorced, but they never did. Mom always acted like she didn't care what Dad did, but I think she was hurt by the way he ran around on her. When he died, she acted like she was indifferent, but I don't think she really was. Maybe she was relieved that things were finally over, but that night, after she brought me home, I heard her crying in her room. I never told her that I heard, and after that she went about making arrangements in a businesslike fashion and brushed me off if I wanted to talk about Dad."

"Nothing's ever as simple as we'd like to believe, Rose. Your mother wasn't happy with your father, it's true, but she was married to him for eighteen years, and you don't spend eighteen years with a person and feel nothing when they're gone. They become a part of you, whether you like it or not." She patted Rose's hand. "She loves you, too, though she may not always show it. You're her daughter, and maybe someday, you'll be able to mend fences."

"Maybe, Nana. I hope so."


	51. Wedding 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-One

_Friday, October 3, 2003_

Rose hurried up the front walk to the door, flinging it open and rushing inside. The wedding was less than twenty-four hours away, and she had no idea how much work was left to be done.

She hurried down the hall to drop off her purse in her bedroom, then stopped, amazed, at the sight that met her eyes. The bed that she and Jack had ordered a few weeks earlier had been delivered, right on time, and someone else had set it up for them. She had worried that it would be delivered late, like their rings had been, and she had assumed that she and Jack would have to set it up themselves.

Helga poked her head in the door. "They dropped it off at eight o'clock this morning. Since your grandparents were already over here, helping with the final preparations for your wedding, we just set it up for you."

"Thanks, Helga." Rose went to the closet where she had stored the bedding she had bought and took it down. Sheets, a blanket, a bedspread...she put her old bedding away on the closet shelf, except for her afghan, which she draped across the end of the bed when she was done making it.

As she was finishing her task, Rose heard the front door open and close again. Jack's voice echoed through the house.

"Rose? Where are you?"

"I'm down here!" Rose called, tossing her pillow on the bed.

He hurried down to meet her, stopping in his room to drop off his work bag and the tuxes he had picked up for the wedding tomorrow.

"How was your day?" He noticed the freshly made bed in the center of the room. "Good. They delivered it on time. I was worried they wouldn't send it on time, and then what would we have done?"

"Shared my twin bed?" Rose suggested.

He considered this idea. "That might have been kind of a tight squeeze, wouldn't you say?"

Rose smiled, arching an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I'm sure we could have managed." She flopped down on her side of the bed. "This is nice."

Jack flopped down beside her. "Hey, yeah." He put his hands behind his head and pretended to fall asleep.

"Jack!" Rose shook him.

"What?"

"Excuse me." Helga looked in the door again. Looking them over, she remarked, "Need I remind you that you aren't getting married until tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jack got up, pulling Rose with him.

"I wanted to tell you that everything is ready for your wedding," Helga told them. "Your grandparents finished the preparations this afternoon. We just need to carry stuff up tomorrow and get things set up, and you'll be ready to get married."

"We're already ready to get married," Rose told her, wrapping her arms around Jack.

Helga shook her head. "You two are hopeless. You really are."

*****

As had become their custom over the past couple of months, Jack and Rose went out together that evening. Ever since Jack had been released from the hospital following his surgery, they had gone out somewhere together every Friday night, going to dinner, movies, local theater productions, nightclubs in Southland, even football games at Rose's old high school, since she still knew some kids there. Sometimes, they would just go walking around the hills, having a picnic on their favorite hilltop, the one where Jack had drawn Rose "flying" so many months before, or, if both Helga and Tommy were going to be out, they would rent a DVD, order take-out, and spend the evening at home together. It was a special time they had arranged, just for the two of them, apart from their everyday lives.

Tonight, with everything they had to do the next day, they decided to just go out for pizza. As they were getting ready to leave, one of the kids across the street called to Jack.

"Hey, Jack!"

He walked over to their fence, Rose following. "Hey, Pedro. What are you up to?"

"We're playing basketball." He gestured to the hoop attached to the garage door. One of the girls, the youngest one at about four years old, was trying to get the ball through the hoop, without resounding success.

"I told Violante that you could shoot a basket from all the way across the street, but she doesn't believe me. Why don't you show her?" He gestured to his twelve-year-old sister, who was pretending to ignore him.

"Well, I can try."

Pedro took the ball away from his youngest sister, who immediately threw a dirt clod at him. He ignored her, tossing the ball over the fence to Jack.

Jack walked back across the street, bouncing the ball. Rose watched as he looked at the hoop, bounced the ball a couple more times, and threw it neatly through the hoop.

The kids cheered. Violante came up to the gate and looked at Jack admiringly. "You're good at basketball," she told him, trying to look and sound as grown-up as possible. She had had a crush on Jack ever since he had moved in across the street from her family more than a year ago, and she had been jealous of Rose ever since she had moved in the previous June, especially after Rose and Jack had announced their engagement.

"Thanks, Violante," Jack told her. He was aware of her crush, but he wasn't going to encourage her. When she had followed him around the first summer he had lived in the neighborhood, he had told her she was very pretty, and that there should be plenty of nice guys her age that she could hang around with. He was almost ten years older than her, and was definitely not interested, regarding her with a brotherly affection.

Jack and Rose waved good-bye to the kids and headed for Jack's car.

"You are good at basketball," Rose told him when they were in the car. "Where did you learn to play so well?"

"I always liked playing basketball, from the time I was in elementary school. There was a basketball team at my junior high school, and I played on that, and then played on junior varsity in high school my freshman year. After that, I was in foster homes, and never stayed at any one school long enough to join a team. I still played, though, whenever I had a chance, and I played basketball in juvenile hall."

"You don't play much now, though."

"Not as much," he admitted, "though I still sometimes shoot hoops with some of the guys from work at lunch hour. There's a park not far from where we work."

"Often enough that you can throw the ball from across the street and still get it through the hoop. Now I know why you never miss a basketball game on television, and why you have all those basketball drawings in your portfolio," she teased him.

"You guessed it," he teased her back, laughing.

Rose laughed with him for a moment before quieting. "You're good with kids, too," she told him. "You'll make a good father someday. Kids like you."

They had already agreed not to start their family for a year or two, so that they would have time to at least partially complete college before they had children to care for. Still, they did want children in the future, and Rose, whose experience with children was largely limited to baby-sitting in junior high and high school, was glad that Jack was so good with them.

As they drove into the newly rebuilt section of town, Rose tapped Jack on the arm. "Would you stop at the cemetery first? There's something I need to do."

Jack nodded, pulling into the cemetery and following Rose's instructions as he drove along the narrow roads. Finally, they reached the spot Rose indicated.

Rose got out of the car and headed up a slight rise to an area filled with broken headstones. A deep crack still rent the earth just twenty feet away, with broken pieces of headstones, trees, and shrubs protruding from it. The bodies that had been buried in the spot opened by the earthquake had been reburied elsewhere, but the crack had yet to be filled in.

Rose stopped in front of one of the broken headstones, split cleanly in half with one half lying on the ground and the other half still standing. She tried to lift the heavy concrete and metal of the broken half to put it back upright. Jack saw what she was trying to do and hurried to help her.

"Who is buried here?" he asked after they had set the broken headstone set upright.

"My father," Rose told him, walking around to look at the grave.

"Your father?"

"Yes. He died when I was sixteen, and was buried here in the cemetery. This is the first time since the earthquake that I've visited his grave. I'd kind of hoped that Mom would visit, but if she did she never did anything about the broken headstone." She stared down at the overgrown grave, the grass disturbed where they had replaced the broken chunk of concrete.

"What happened to him? I knew that he'd died, but you never said much more than that."

"Mom was very ashamed of the way he died. She never wanted anyone to talk about it."

"Why?"

Rose took a deep breath, looking up from the tangle of weeds that marked Michael Bukater's final resting place. "He died of AIDS, Jack. Mom didn't want people to know that. She wouldn't even allow it to be printed in his obituary in the newspaper."

She sank down on top of another chunk of concrete. Jack sat beside her, putting an arm around her as she went on.

"Dad had lots of affairs, and I suppose he wasn't always careful who he had affairs with. Or maybe he was. Sometimes it's hard to tell. He was sick for a long time before any of us knew what was wrong. For a long time, he appeared perfectly healthy—but he wasn't. Mom had already taken a separate bedroom from him—she did that about the time I was nine years old—so she didn't catch it. I don't know who he caught it from, or whether she's alive or dead now, but Mom was terribly ashamed that any member of our family would catch such a disease. She was more ashamed of the HIV than of his affairs. For a while, she tried to keep me away from him, but I knew how it was spread—we went over it in science class in seventh grade—and I knew that I couldn't catch it from talking to him or hugging him. He wasn't some pervert who would pass it along to his own daughter."

"You miss him, don't you?"

Rose nodded. "Yes. Mom would never talk much about him after he died, and in the last days of his life, it was so quiet and tense at home that I spent most of my time at Trudy's house. It was almost a relief when it was over. In the end, he was suffering so much, even Mom seemed to take pity on him." She looked up at Jack. "He wasn't a bad person, Jack. He made some mistakes, but no one is perfect. He wasn't around much, but when he was, he was the best father a kid could ask for. He and Mom didn't get along, but they stuck together for my sake."

She leaned her head against Jack's shoulder. He held her close, stroking her hair.

"He doesn't sound like a bad person, Rose. He was your father, who tried to do the best he could for you. You were better off than a lot of kids, even if you did lose him when you were a teenager. At least you've got good memories of him. Some kids never even had that."

"I know. I just wish that he could be here now, to see me get married. I think he would have liked you."

Rose stood up, walking back over to the grave and looking down at it. She stood for a moment, her fingers toying with the necklace she wore. Finally, she spoke.

"Hey, Dad. I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm getting married tomorrow. I know that you would have been there if you could. I think you'd like Jack—he's a good man, much better than Cal. Mom won't be at the wedding—she thinks I'm making a big mistake—but I know I've made the right choice this time." She sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes as Jack came up behind her and put his arms around her. "I miss you, Dad, and I hope that wherever you are, you've found happiness."

She looked up in surprise as Jack put a handful of autumn wildflowers into her hand, flowers that had been growing in the ruins of the cemetery. Bending down, she put them against the headstone, a small handful of bright yellow sunflowers and white, trumpet-like jimsonweed.

"I'm leaving now, Dad. The wedding is tomorrow afternoon, in a beautiful place up in the hills. You always liked to look at those hills in spring, when everything was green and new. I know you'll be there in spirit." She paused, wiping tears from her cheeks. "I love you, Dad."

Rose turned to Jack, burying her head in his shoulder for a moment. Slowly, he led her away from the grave and back to the car, their hands clasped together.

*****

Rose had cheered up a bit by the time the reached the pizza place. As they placed their order and found seats, she mentioned how nice it was spending Friday evenings together.

"I like going out on Friday evenings," she told Jack as they sat down. "I've enjoyed doing this the past couple of months."

"It has been nice," Jack agreed. "Just the two of us, going wherever we choose..."

"Do you think we can continue to do this after we're married?"

"I don't see why not. There's no reason why we should stop having fun just because we're getting married."

At that moment, their number was called and Jack went to pick up their food. As he set it down, Rose asked him, "What do you think of my grandparents?"

"They're nice, though your grandfather tells some awful jokes."

"He does," Rose agreed. "I don't know where he gets them. Maybe it's something that comes with working with addicts." She shook her head, smiling.

"Your grandmother just shakes her head when he tells them, just like you do."

"She looks a lot like Mom, but she sure doesn't act much like her."

"I've only met your mother once, I think. I was in a hurry to get to work and didn't really pay attention to what she looked like."

"Take my grandmother and subtract ten years."

Jack gave her a confused look, wondering how it was that Rose's grandmother was only ten years older than her mother. "How old is your grandmother, anyway? She looks like she's about fifty or so."

"I'll tell her you said that. She always wants to look younger than she is. She's actually sixty-five."

"She doesn't look it. Your mother is fifty-five?"

"No, Mom is forty-three. Nana just looks much younger than her years. People have mistaken her and Mom for sisters."

Jack nodded, understanding now. "I'm sure that makes her happy."

"Oh, it does." Rose took a bite of pizza. "It's lucky that class was canceled last night so we could meet them at home. Otherwise, we would have had to drop by their hotel after class and taken them out for a late dinner somewhere."

"It was nice to meet them—and display Tommy's cooking skills."

Rose grimaced. "Better his skills than mine."

"Oh, come on. Your cooking isn't that bad."

"Whatever you say. Remember how two weeks ago I tried to bake an apple pie and made the mistake of broiling it?"

Jack laughed. "That was bad. But the inside of the pie was good. Just remember—broiling is for meat, not fruit."

"I'll remember that—next time." She paused, taking a sip of Coke. "Nana is going to give me away tomorrow, since Mom refuses to be there."

"That's nice of her. If you were my granddaughter, I would drag your mother kicking and screaming to escort you up the aisle—or trail, in this case."

"She wanted to talk to Mom about it, but I asked her not to. I don't want Mom to show up angry and ruin things for us. I'd hope that she wouldn't, but I wouldn't put it past her. She really thinks I'm making a mistake."

"What do you think?" Jack put down his pizza and looked straight at Rose. "Do you think you're making a mistake?"

Rose shook her head. "No. I've never been more sure of anything in my life. In spite of all the trouble we've had, I love you, and I want to spend my life with you."

"I want to be with you, too." Jack reached across the table and took her hand, looking at the silver engagement ring on her finger. "I love you, Rose."

Rose smiled at him, wondering, not for the first time, how she had been so lucky as to find Jack. She could have been trapped in a hellish marriage to Cal by now, but instead, she was looking forward to her wedding tomorrow afternoon to the man she loved.

"Rose...I've been thinking about something," Jack told her, letting go of her hand.

"What is it?"

"Well, ever since summer, I've been studying psychology, and I really find it fascinating. I was talking to your grandmother last night, about the work she does, and it's cemented something in my mind that I've been thinking about."

"Which is?"

"I'm going to study art therapy, go into that as a career. I think that I could help people, make a difference in their lives."

Rose nodded. "I think you could. You understand what it's like to...have something going wrong in your mind, and you're talented in art. Nana doesn't really do much art therapy, but she knows about it. My psychology professor last year thought it was a great way of getting people to express themselves."

Jack nodded. "I want to try it, at least. I did some of it on myself, with the archetypes and everything, and I think it helped."

"So how are you going to go about this?"

"I think for the time being I'll major in art and psychology—after this semester, of course—and try to get Associate's degrees in both, and then go on to a university."

"That sounds like a good idea." Rose smiled a bit sheepishly. "I'm actually farther along in college than you are, but I have no idea what kind of career I want. Clerical work is okay, but I don't want to do it forever. Not when there's a whole world of possibilities."

"Why don't you try studying music? You sing so well."

Rose looked at him as though he had grown two heads. "I have a terrible voice."

"No, you don't. You sing great." Jack thought for a minute. "The college is putting on a musical in the spring, _Jesus Christ Superstar_. They're holding auditions in November. You should try out."

"Like I said, I can't sing."

"Since when? You sound better than some professionals."

"Yeah. Like Woody Guthrie."

"Who?"

"He was this folk singer and song writer back in the 1930's and 1940's. He didn't sing very well, but he wrote some wonderful songs."

"You can sing."

"That's not what you thought back in July."

"July?" Jack thought for a moment, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Then he remembered. "Is that why you stopped singing? Because of me?"

"I'm not going to sing when it upsets people so much."

"It only upset me, and only because I had an awful headache."

"Which my singing made worse."

"Only because you were upset, and your voice gets high-pitched when you're upset."

"Nevertheless, it was enough to let me know not to embarrass myself by singing. I would rather not make life miserable for everyone else by making such terrible noise."

"Your voice isn't terrible. Remember the day that you came up to see me on the hill, before the earthquake? We were singing _Come Josephine in my Flying Machine_. I thought you had one of the most beautiful voices I'd ever heard."

"But it isn't so nice now. Maybe the smoke from the fire that night damaged it."

"Your voice is as good as it ever was." He pushed his empty plate away. "Come on. Just try it. The worst they can say is no. I think you'd sound good on stage."

"Maybe." Rose toyed with her napkin, thinking. "All right. I'll do it. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"You don't need to warn me. One of these days people will come to hear you sing. I'm sure of it. Your name will be up there. Rose...uh...what is your middle name, anyway?"

"Marie, after my great-grandmother."

"Rose Marie Dawson. That's a name that people will look for."

"Maybe." Rose looked at him skeptically. "What's your middle name?"

"Um..." Jack tried to avoid the question.

"Come on. It can't be that bad. Tell me. I need to know my husband's full name."

"Millard," Jack mumbled.

"What?"

"Millard," he told her, louder this time.

"Millard? Who came up with the name Millard?" Rose started laughing.

"It's not that funny!"

Rose just kept laughing.

"My mother gave me that middle name. She was all whacked out on pain medication after I was born, and she gave me the first middle name she thought of. She'd been writing a paper on President Millard Fillmore a few hours before she gave birth to me, and that was what was in her mind."

"You're lucky she didn't give you that for a first name!"

"Dad gave me my first name. Mom got to choose my middle name."

Rose was still laughing. Jack gave her an annoyed look and cleared their places. Rose was still laughing when they got to the car.

"You sound like a hyena," Jack told her, sending her into more peals of laughter.

Finally, she calmed down. "I'm sorry, Jack. It's just...Millard! What a name!" She settled into her seat, stretching. "I'm tired. I think I'm a little punchy."

"I'll say."

"Hey!" Rose looked at him in mock offense. "Just do me a favor, okay?"

"What?"

"Don't give any of our children that name."

"Don't worry. I don't want their mother laughing every time she sees them. Besides, I've had enough teasing over that middle name. That's why I don't tell it to people."

"Well, I guess it isn't that bad. After all, you're named after a president."

"Who no one remembers."

"Except for his name." Rose's eyes were still shining with mirth as they headed toward home.

*****

It was earlier than usual when they reached home, only nine o'clock, but they had a long day ahead of them. Jack had forgiven Rose for laughing at his name by the time they got there, and Rose was very apologetic, though she still got a twinkle in her eye when she thought about Jack's middle name.

Helga was dozing in front of the television when they came into the house, but she woke up and turned it off when the door opened. Tommy was out, as he usually was on Friday nights.

"Hey," Helga greeted them drowsily. "How was your date?"

"Not bad," Rose told her. "We visited my father's grave in the cemetery and went out for pizza."

"Sounds like fun." Helga got awkwardly to her feet, her swelling middle beginning to make getting up difficult. "I'm going to bed, now. Behave yourselves."

"We will," Rose told her, sighing and giving her a look that said she was tired of hearing that.

As soon as Helga's bedroom door had closed, Jack took Rose in his arms. They kissed for a moment, then stepped apart.

"Well...good night, Rose," Jack told her, heading in the direction of the hall.

"Good night. I guess we're not supposed to see each other until the wedding tomorrow."

"Nope. The bride and the groom aren't supposed to see each other before the wedding."

"I wonder where that custom came from?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe we should break it and see what happens." He gave her a mischievous look.

Rose laughed. "I'll see you in the morning, then, tradition be da—darned." She grinned at him. "I'll walk you to your room."

Jack laughed as she accompanied him down the hall, her arm linked with his. They kissed good night outside of Jack's room, separating when Helga stepped out of the bathroom and looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Good night," they chorused to her as she shook a finger in mock warning and disappeared into her room.

"Good night. I love you," Rose finally whispered to Jack, kissing him one more time and disappearing into her own room.

As she prepared for bed, Rose thought about the day to come. She was getting married to the man that she loved enough to sacrifice her own well-being for. She wondered if her mother had ever felt that way about her father, or if there had been something wrong from the beginning.

Rose slipped into bed, trying to get comfortable in the new, strange bed. She rolled over, pulling the covers up to her chin and gazing at the faint light filtering in through the blinds. It was, she thought, much too big a bed for one person, especially in the cool October weather. Curling up and pulling her afghan over her, she pushed the thought from her mind. It was only for one night, after all. After tonight, she would be sharing it with Jack.


	52. Wedding 7

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Two

_Saturday, October 4, 2003_

Rose awoke early the morning of her wedding. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was barely six AM—much earlier than she usually got up on Saturdays. Snuggling back beneath the covers, she tried to fall back asleep—to no avail. She was too nervous and excited to sleep, and, at last, she gave up the attempt and got up.

After quickly showering and dressing, Rose went out to the kitchen. Only Helga was up, sleepily making a pot of coffee.

"Good morning!" Rose told her cheerfully, opening the refrigerator and looking for something to eat.

"You're sure up early."

"It's past 6:30."

"On a Saturday. I hardly ever see you on a Saturday before 7:30."

"I couldn't sleep. Too many things to think about."

"Excited about the wedding?"

"Yeah." Rose pulled out the carton of eggs and walked over to the stove. "And a little nervous."

"Nervous? Why?"

"I don't know. I've never gotten married before. I mean, what if people can't find the wedding site, or someone gets bitten by a rattlesnake, or I fall flat on my face while walking up the trail, or..."

"Or maybe nothing bad will happen, and you'll have a beautiful wedding. The newspaper says it should be bright and sunny this afternoon, with temperatures in the low eighties. Perfect weather for an outdoor wedding."

"The weather! I never even thought of that." Rose grabbed the newspaper and turned to the weather page, looking to see if Helga was right. "What if the paper is wrong?"

"Rose, look outside."

Rose peeked through the blinds and was greeted by the sunrise, with only a few scattered clouds. "Good. It is nice weather."

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"Only about holding a big, elaborate ceremony and a reception. Jack and I should have eloped."

"And then you'd have missed the chance to get married out in the open air, with your relatives and friends watching."

"It's the watching part that makes me nervous."

"No one's going to laugh at you. Remember how when I got married, the pianist didn't start the music until I was halfway up the aisle? Everyone took it with good humor. And," she added, "you don't have to worry about anyone missing their cue. Your music is going to be on CD."

"What if it doesn't work? What if the CD player doesn't play the music?"

"Then you'll walk up without it." Helga moved the coffee away as Rose tried to pour herself a cup. "You really need to relax."

Rose scowled at her. "I'm fine."

"If you say so. But I'll bet that if you have any coffee, you'll be bouncing off the walls."

"That just reminded me of something." Rose scraped the scrambled eggs out of the pan and dumped them onto a plate, then set the plate on the table and rushed out the back door.

She returned a few minutes later and dug into her breakfast. "Everything looks great out there. The tables are set up, the chairs are set up, there's no trash in the yard, the flowers are blooming...the reception will be great."

"I told you your grandparents got everything ready yesterday."

"Yes, but I didn't check to be sure. Maybe I should go check the hilltop that Jack and I chose."

Helga grabbed Rose by the elbow and pulled her back to her chair. "Sit down and finish eating before you go running off. I swear, I've never seen you so nervous."

"I'm not that nervous. I just want to make sure everything is perfect."

"Well, make sure everything is perfect after you eat."

"Okay, okay." Rose quickly finished the scrambled eggs and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table.

"I'll see you later," she told Helga, opening the front door and rushing out.

Helga waved, spinning her finger around her ear to indicate that she thought Rose was crazy.

*****

Rose returned by eight o'clock. Everyone else was up by then, so she sat down at the table beside Jack, talking a mile a minute about how wonderful everything looked. No one could get a word in edgewise until Jack took advantage of Rose's open mouth and stuffed a slice of orange in it. She sputtered, wiping her mouth, and finally stopped talking.

"You know, you two aren't supposed to see each other until the wedding," Helga reminded them.

"We decided to go against tradition," Jack explained. "It doesn't make any sense, especially since we're cohabiting."

"You're not cohabiting," Tommy told them. "You've been renting separate rooms in the same house."

"Close enough," Rose retorted, taking another slice of orange from Jack's plate and eating it. When he began to object, she grabbed another slice and popped it in his mouth. He grinned and kissed her. Helga rolled her eyes, while Tommy looked at them as though they'd lost their minds.

"Ahem," Helga said after a moment.

Jack and Rose looked up. "What?"

"You have an audience," Tommy pointed out, still eyeing them as though they were crazy.

"Oh...right." Jack returned to his breakfast while Rose got up and looked in the refrigerator again.

"Is the food for the reception prepared yet?" she asked, peering inside.

"Most of it is being made by Eddie Aguilar across the street. I'm baking your wedding cake, and making a vegetable tray and a couple of salads. You don't need to worry about it," Helga told her.

"I want to help," Rose replied. "Maybe I could help with the cake."

"No!" all three of the others told her.

"I don't want to eat broiled cake," Tommy added.

Rose looked at him balefully. "I'm not going to broil it. I learned why you don't do that with baked goods."

"The bride isn't supposed to make her own cake," Helga interjected. "If you want to help, you can go down to the supermarket and get some more fruit, lettuce, and vegetables. Get some more eggs, milk, and flour, too. And then, if you still want to help, you can make the fruit salad."

*****

Everything was ready by early afternoon. Jack, Tommy, and David had carried the things needed for the wedding up to the hilltop, with Tommy remaining behind to make sure no one walked off with anything. The wedding was scheduled for three o'clock.

Rose had wound up helping make the salads and had called her relatives from San Francisco to be sure they would be at the wedding. They had flown down the day before. Rose had told them, as best she could, just where the wedding would be, then told them to follow the footprints and the groups of people if they couldn't find it.

At 1:30, Sophie arrived with her bridesmaid gown, and Kathleen arrived a few minutes after that. David had walked up to the wedding site so that Tommy could come home and change into his tuxedo before being best man in the wedding.

At 1:45, much to Rose's surprise, her former roommates showed up. They had both been invited to the wedding, but she hadn't expected them to come so early.

"I know we're early," Michelle told her, "but we're going to help you get ready."

"And make sure your groom doesn't try to run off," Mari added, looking around for Jack.

"He's not going to run off," Rose told her. "He's getting ready right now."

"You need to get ready, too," Kathleen advised her, pushing her in the direction of her bedroom. Smiling suddenly, Rose rushed down the hall, eager to get dressed and get to her wedding.

Mari admired Sophie's blue bridesmaid gown, the same one she had worn for Helga's wedding. The dress was almost off the shoulder, with blue beading sewn in an intricate pattern over it. Helga had found the fabric pre-beaded, eliminating the need for careful hand beading. The dress had originally had a train, but Sophie had pinned the train up so that it wouldn't drag in the dirt.

Rose beamed in delight as she went to the closet and removed the wedding gown she had made. The deep blue satin and white chiffon moved gracefully as she put it on and zipped it up. It had taken her forever to figure out how to sew in the zipper so that it wouldn't catch on the delicate chiffon, but she had finally succeeded. The dress was beautiful.

"Oh, that looks nice," Michelle told her, watching as Rose carefully tied the blue satin sash in the back. The neckline of the dress was edged with pearls and lace, and the carefully designed hair ornament that Rose pulled from a drawer a moment later matched perfectly.

"Let me help with your hair," Michelle said, taking the hair ornament and looking at it critically. "How do you want your hair done?"

"Part of it braided, with this twined through it, and the rest left hanging down my back. I was going to do it myself."

"Let her help," Mari told Rose. "She helped in her mom's salon all summer."

"Well...all right."

Rose stood in front of the mirror as Michelle brushed out her hair and divided off the sections to be braided. She pointed out how she wanted the center flowers atop her head, with the pearls and remaining flowers braided into her hair. She sat patiently while Michelle braided her hair and tied the ends of the two braids together with a blue rubber band covered by the ends of the pearl string.

Kathleen nodded approvingly as Rose turned to look at the rest of them, the blue roses atop her head standing out against her red hair. Mari looked her over critically as she began her makeup, her gown covered by an old apron to keep the makeup from spilling on it.

"Something's missing," she told Rose.

"What?" Rose looked at herself, unable to see any problem.

"You need something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue."

"I have those things," Rose pointed out, taking off her apron. "Well, at least I have something new and blue." She gestured to her gown.

"But you need something old and something borrowed."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Mari shrugged. "For good luck, I guess." She paused. "Where's your jewelry box?"

"You can't steal from her," Michelle told Mari jokingly.

Mari tossed her head. "I don't intend to. Let me see..." She spied Rose's jewelry box sitting on a shelf in the closet. Taking it out, she opened it.

"Here," she said, drawing out a pair of dangling pearl and gold earrings that she had seen Rose wear when they were roommates. "These are old."

"Not that old. Mom gave them to me for high school graduation," Rose told her, but Mari was adamant.

"They match. Wear them."

Laughing, Rose gave in. After fastening on the earrings, she was surprised when her grandmother slipped a delicate gold bracelet from her wrist and handed it to her.

"Something borrowed," Kathleen told her. "And I want it back, so don't lose it."

"Thank you, Nana." Rose slipped on the bracelet, looking at herself in the mirror.

Everything had come together. Her wedding gown floated around her when she moved, the delicate chiffon lying in layers over the blue satin underskirt. The short train had been lined with tulle and lace to keep the chiffon from being damaged on the trail. The neckline was low, but not too low, and the blue sash on the empire waist brought out the color of her eyes. Her cheeks were pink with excitement, her eyes sparkling. She looked very different from the unhappy young woman who had gazed at her reflection in the mirror in the formal wear shop just five months earlier. Then, she had been miserable, dreading the day when she would walk up the aisle and marry the man who had abused her, who she knew would hurt her again. Now, she was smiling, happy, ready to marry the man she loved and trusted.

Impulsively, she whirled around, watching the layers of chiffon billow around her. Sophie laughed, then stopped as a knock sounded on the door.

"Rose?" Jack's voice came from outside the door.

Rose rushed to open the door, ignoring everyone's protests. "Jack!"

Jack was standing outside the door, resplendent in his black tuxedo. His hair had been combed back neatly, instead of hanging his face as it often did. Rose stepped out, straightening his bow tie for him.

"You look nice," he told her, looking at her gown and hair.

"Thanks. So do you." She brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes. No amount of combing could make it stay in place.

"You ready?"

Rose looked at him. "No," she confessed. "No, I'm not ready. I just know I'm going to do something stupid—fall flat on my face, or drop my bouquet in the dust, or faint, or—"

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "You've been up that trail a hundred times. You won't fall on your face or drop your bouquet, and you're not a fainter."

"I don't know..." Rose trailed off. "Are you sure we should go through the wedding? Las Vegas is only about eight hours away. We could elope..."

"Oh, no, you don't." Michelle grabbed Rose's hand and tugged her back toward her room. "She'll see you at the...uh...whatever you're using for an altar."

"The hilltop," Jack told her. He turned to Rose. "You'll be fine. Your grandmother will escort you up the trail, and we'll make our vows...and everything will be just fine."

Rose relaxed a bit. Jack usually had that effect on her. "You're right. Things will be fine. You'd better get up there...or I'll beat you to the hilltop." She grinned as Michelle looked at her in mock annoyance and pulled her back into her room, closing the door.

"You're not supposed to see the groom before the wedding," she scolded Rose.

"Do you know where that custom comes from?" Mari asked, flopping down on the bed.

"No. Where?" Michelle wanted to know.

"It comes from the days of arranged marriages, when the bride and groom weren't allowed to see each other for fear they'd run away."

"And now," Helga told them, opening the door and walking in, "the custom works to keep the bride and groom from running away...to Las Vegas." She looked at Rose. "I heard you out there, trying to escape. We've put too much work into this wedding for you to elope. You'll go up that trail if we have to carry you."

Rose laughed at the image of her friends and grandmother hoisting her into the air and carrying her up the hill. "All right. I'm going. Where's my bouquet?"

"It's in the kitchen," Helga told her, "along with mine and Sophie's. Tommy has the rings, and he and Jack are on their way up the hill. We'll give them a few minutes, and then go over ourselves. Everything's ready."

A few minutes later, the group of women made their way up the street toward the hills. Sophie carried all three of the bouquets as they walked around the block, several neighbors coming out to watch the procession. Rose smiled, her heart pounding with nervous excitement. Just a little while longer, and she would be married.


	53. Wedding 8

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Three

Rose stood at the base of the hill, clutching her bouquet. The scents of the flowers wafted up in the warm breeze, soothing her somewhat. Still, she wasn't sure that she would get through the ceremony.

_Everything is wrong,_ Rose suddenly thought in a panic. _Whoever heard of holding a wedding out in the hills?_ Everyone had found their way to the site without trouble, but she still felt anxious. It was too warm and windy for a wedding, though the temperature was only eighty degrees and the breeze was gentle. Everything was a disaster waiting to happen. Someone would get heatstroke, or get bitten by a rattlesnake. Her wedding gown was all wrong. It should have been pure white, as Helga had suggested, and she should have had a veil instead of a flower and pearl headdress. She should have made a new bridesmaid gown for Sophie, rather than having her wear the same dress she had worn for Helga's wedding. She should never have talked Helga into being her matron of honor. A bride wasn't supposed to have a pregnant attendant. And what bride was given away by her grandmother? She should have left well enough alone and walked up the trail by herself, since she didn't have a father to escort her.

She looked up the hill to where Jack and Tommy were standing near the minister. _Everything is wrong,_ she thought, _except for my choice of husband._ In that, she knew that she had made the right decision. Jack looked handsome in his tuxedo, though she could tell from way he occasionally tugged at his collar that he was a bit nervous himself.

"Jeez, Rose."

Rose turned at the sound of Sophie's hushed voice. "What?"

"You really are nervous, aren't you?"

"I'm fine," Rose lied, looking up the trail at Jack again. Watching him made her feel better.

"Your flowers are moving."

"My flowers?" Rose looked at her bouquet. It seemed steady enough to her.

"On your head," Sophie whispered.

Rose reached up and touched her head, realizing that the flowers in her headdress were indeed swaying with each beat of her heart.

"I guess I am a little nervous," she confessed.

"A little?" Helga remarked. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were suffering from heart trouble."

Rose laughed, relaxing a little. "Beating flowers! What next?"

"Your walk up the trail," Kathleen told her, as David pushed the button on the CD player and the music began. Rose's eyes widened.

"You'll be fine," Helga assured her as she started up the trail.

The others watched for a moment before Sophie gave Rose a quick hug and followed Helga. When she reached the hilltop, Kathleen took Rose's arm.

"Ready?" she asked her granddaughter.

Rose nodded, trying to slow her pulse. It wouldn't do to faint on the trail and have to be carried to the hilltop.

As they stepped onto the trail, Kathleen gave Rose's hand a reassuring squeeze. Rose smiled in spite of herself. She was nervous, but she was happy. It was her wedding day, the day she had dreamed of since she had been a little girl. Her engagement to Cal had turned the dream into a nightmare, but now she had awakened to a much happier reality. No longer believing in fairytale stories of happily ever after, she still knew that this time she had made the right choice. Life would never be perfect, but she didn't want the perfect life that so many people strove towards. She had a good life, and she was marrying the man that she loved. Whatever happened in their lives, whatever triumphs and tragedies they experienced, they would always have each other.

Rose looked up at Jack as she walked up the trail towards him. He smiled back at her, and she suddenly forgot her worries and her trepidation over the ceremony. _Everything is all right,_ his eyes seemed to say, and suddenly Rose agreed with him. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the guests watched her in admiration as she walked up the trail in her flowing chiffon gown.

As she reached the hilltop, Jack held his hand out to her. Stepping away from Kathleen, Rose took his hand, her face lighting in a bright smile as she handed her bouquet to Sophie and came to stand beside him.

As David turned off the CD player and the guests turned their attention toward the hilltop, Reverend Kilpatrick asked, "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

Kathleen stepped forward, looking at her granddaughter with pride. "I do." She stepped back, coming to stand beside one of Rose's aunts.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this day..."

Jack and Rose turned to face the minister. He gave a short sermon about the love and trust between husband and wife, and then began the words that would join Jack and Rose.

"Do you, Jack Dawson, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Jack responded without hesitation. "I do." He looked into Rose's eyes as he said the words, remembering how much they had gone through to get to this point.

Reverend Kilpatrick turned to Rose. "Do you, Rose DeWitt-Bukater, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Rose looked at Jack as she, too, remembered what they had gone through together. But they had resolved their troubles, no matter how hard it had been, and she knew that they would do the same in the future. Everything would be all right, and she smiled as she, too, said the words without hesitation. "I do."

Tommy handed them the rings, and Jack slipped Rose's ring on her finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Rose repeated his words, slipping his ring onto his finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

"If there are any here who see cause why these two should not be joined together, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Rose held her breath, half-worried that someone would speak out. But no one did. Jack smiled at her as the minister began the final words.

"What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

They turned toward each other, their lips meeting in a kiss of love and promise. At last, they broke apart and turned to face their guests.

The guests applauded as David turned the CD player on and the music once again rang out. Hand in hand, Jack and Rose walked back down the trail, followed by Sophie, Helga, and Tommy. The newlyweds clasped hands tightly, reveling in the joy of the occasion, as they made their way back to the street and headed for home.


	54. Wedding 9

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Four

The reception began a short time later. After the guests had slowly trickled back to the house, the members of the wedding party got together to have their pictures taken. There wasn't enough money to hire a professional photographer, but a number of the guests had brought cameras. Kathleen took several pictures of the group, including two where she had Mari take the pictures so that she could be in them. After the group pictures were done, Kathleen and David took pictures of just the newlyweds, one of them standing together in front of the house, one of them embracing and appearing not to notice the camera, and one of them posed in front of the heavily laden olive tree in the backyard.

When the pictures were done, the guests were allowed into the backyard for the reception. Trays of food were set out on a table, and someone had borrowed the neighbor's stereo again. Loud music sounded across the yard.

A number of the guests were drinking beer, but Rose soon noticed that Jack was avoiding it, limiting himself to soda. Since he had always enjoyed beer, she wondered why.

"Got a sweet tooth?" she teased him, sitting down on the bench beside him.

"What do you mean?"

"Coke instead of beer—unless you're spiking it." Before Jack could move his drink out of her reach, she sniffed it. "Nope, not spiked."

"I can't have alcohol," he told her, offering her a sip of his drink. "It doesn't go well with Prozac, though Dr. Lobb won't explain why."

"It's because one drink will remove the effects of ten days to two weeks of anti-depressants," Rose explained, remembering something she had overheard at lunch. "Which is definitely not what you need. I'd forgotten you were taking that stuff."

Jack shrugged. "I'd just as soon not invite trouble. The problem is, we're supposed to drink champagne later, and I can't. How am I going to explain that?"

"You don't see me drinking alcohol."

"You're underage. You have an excuse. I, on the other hand, am twenty-two, and have never refused a little alcohol before."

Rose thought this dilemma over for a moment. "If anyone asks, tell them that you're doing it for me. I'm not old enough to legally consume alcohol, so you're not either, to keep me from feeling left out."

He looked at her skeptically for a moment, then nodded. "All right. I'll say that if anyone asks." He grinned at her. "You're handy to have around."

Rose gave him a look of mock-offense. "You just keep thinking that, _husband_. You're married to me now."

Jack laughed and set his cup aside. "Want to dance?"

"Sure."

Jack took Rose's hand and led her to an uncrowded area of the yard. "Remember how we danced at Fabrizio and Helga's wedding?"

Rose laughed. "Of course. I attempted to do three dance steps at once, and you tried to imitate me and knocked us both over."

"And we whirled around and around until we were out of breath." So saying, he grabbed Rose's hands and whirled her around.

Rose squealed in surprise. "Jack, no!" She gripped his hands tighter, keeping them both on balance as they whirled around.

At last they stopped, laughing, and leaned against each other giddily for a moment. A new tune came on, an Irish tune that Tommy often played on his guitar, and Jack straightened up, smiling at Rose.

"What?" she asked, wondering what he was up to. Before she could say another word, he launched into some fancy footwork, his feet moving in time to the music.

"I learned this when I was a kid," he told her, reaching for her hand. "My mom and dad used to do this."

Rose took his hand and tried to follow his steps. After a moment, she got the hang of it and danced with him, their feet pounding on the grass.

When the tune ended, they realized that they had an audience. Several of the guests applauded and Violante came up to Jack, inquiring shyly if he could teach her the steps.

While Jack taught Violante the dance, Rose slipped away to talk to her friends. Sophie teased her as they watched Jack and Violante.

"Looks like you've got some competition there, Rose."

Rose laughed as Jack looked at her, his expression signaling that he would rather be with her. Still, he was willing to teach their young neighbor the dance, if only because she was enjoying it so much.

"Think I should give him some competition?" Rose asked, giving Sophie a sly grin.

Sophie looked at her suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Where's Mark?"

Sophie understood immediately, and went to find her younger brother. Neither Jack nor Rose were serious about making the other jealous, and Sophie suspected that Rose was about to try to play matchmaker between Mark and Violante. They were much closer in age to each other than they were to Jack and Rose.

Rose led Mark out onto the lawn, laughing a bit as he tried to follow her dancing. She towered over him, and even in her long dress, she was a much more graceful dancer. He looked a bit embarrassed until Rose danced her way over to Jack and tapped Violante on the shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?" she asked, not waiting for a response. Violante glared at her for a moment while Jack smiled and danced her across the yard. After a moment, she stopped glaring at Rose, and turned her attention to Mark.

"What are you looking at?" she demanded.

Jack and Rose looked back as the twelve-year-olds argued for a moment, then began a fast, silly dance that resembled nothing they'd ever seen. Rose grinned. Her plan had worked, and now Violante was more intrigued, at least for the moment, by Mark than she was by Jack.

They walked over to the table where snacks had been set out and got a couple of paper plates, piling them with food and finding chairs to sit in.

"It looks like Violante finally found someone her own age," Jack commented, watching the adolescents.

"Jealous?" Rose teased him.

"Not at all. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever get away from Violante. She's a nice girl, but she's just a kid. Besides, I'd rather be with you."

"I'm a better dancer, too."

"Yeah, that too." He smiled at her, then leaned over to kiss her. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Later, after dinner was over, Tommy brought out his guitar and sat down near the stereo, playing songs that guests had requested. He had a talent for following the recorded music, even when he wasn't familiar with the song.

"This song was requested by both the bride and the groom, so they'd better get out here and dance."

Jack and Rose looked at each other, mystified, wondering what song they had both requested.

"It's a slow song," Tommy added as they stepped out onto the lawn.

The music started, and they both immediately recognized the song—_Wind Beneath My Wings_.

"You requested this?" Rose asked, surprised.

Jack nodded. "Yes. I...think it says a lot about how I feel about you."

"It says a lot about how I feel about you, too. That's why I requested it," Rose replied, ducking her head to hide her suddenly damp eyes.

Jack held her closer as they danced slowly. Rose looked up at him, seeing that his eyes were also suspiciously moist.

"It's perfect," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. "This day, Jack—it's the most perfect wedding I could have asked for. I was nervous at first, but now I'm glad we held the ceremony the way we did. It was better than I could ever have imagined." She looked at him, her eyes shining. "I love you, Jack."

Jack kissed her, unmindful of the people watching. When they broke apart, he whispered to her, "I love you, Rose. Thank you for sticking with me all this time. I'm the luckiest man alive, being married to you."

Rose smiled at him, singing softly along with the song, singing aloud for the first time since summer.

_Did you ever know  
That you're my hero?  
You're everything I wish  
I could be  
I can fly higher  
Than an eagle.  
You are the wind  
Beneath my wings._


	55. Wedding 10

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Five

Rose stood at the gate, telling the last of the guests good-bye. It was only ten o'clock, but a number of the guests had young children, and those who didn't respected the newlyweds' desire to be alone.

Rose sighed contentedly, thinking about the day just past. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and she had enjoyed the reception far more than she thought she would when she was running around nervously that morning. After they had danced, she and Jack had cut the wedding cake together. Though champagne was served with the cake, Jack had managed to avoid any questions about his reluctance to drink it by filling a glass with clear soda when no one was looking and drinking it instead. It had been dark by that time, so no one had noticed the difference except Rose.

Several obnoxious guests had started heckling them when they sat down to eat the cake, encouraging Jack to smash a piece of it in Rose's face. Neither Jack nor Rose had liked this idea, but Jack had finally shut the hecklers up by taking a piece of cake on his fork, smashing it, and popping it into Rose's mouth—quite literally, smashed cake in her face. The hecklers had told him he wasn't doing it right, but he'd ignored them after that, and they had eventually given up.

Closing the gate, Rose wondered where Jack was. When the guests had started to drift away, he had excused himself and disappeared into the house. No one had seen him since.

She was about to go look for him when he came around the corner of the house. "Rose!" he called, waving her over.

"Where've you been?" she asked, coming up and wrapping her arms around him.

Jack smiled mysteriously. "Somewhere."

"Where?"

"You'll find out." They started back toward the house. "Has everyone left?"

"Yes. Our neighbors from across the street just went home. That's everyone."

"Finally. I thought they'd never leave."

"Why would you want them to leave?" Rose looked at him innocently, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

Jack just laughed as they stepped into the living room, then took her in his arms and kissed her. Rose kissed him back, forgetting that anyone else was around until Tommy came in with a pile of leftovers.

"Hey, newlyweds. Get a room," he told them, brushing past them on his way to the kitchen.

"Are you sure you don't want us to help clean up?" Rose asked, looking at the mess.

"No. Absolutely not. It's your wedding night. Get out of here before we have to witness any more public displays of affection," Helga told them, looking up from where she was trying to find space in the refrigerator for the leftovers.

"You're a fine one to talk," Tommy told her. "You and Fabrizio used to kiss out front, in full view of the neighborhood."

Helga tossed a plastic bag of lettuce at him. He ducked, and the bag spilled open on the floor.

"You're right," Rose said. "We'll let you clean up. Good night."

She and Jack walked to the hallway where, much to Rose's surprise, Jack suddenly picked her up and carried her down the hall.

"Jack! What are you doing?"

"I'm carrying you across the threshold."

"Across the threshold? But we're already in the house!"

"But we're not in our room, which is officially our home."

"But we've already been in there."

"But not as a married couple."

Rose laughed, conceding the point. Jack carried her to the end of the hallway, then struggled to open the door without setting her down.

"Rose, quit squirming. You're heavy."

"Oh, that's just what a new bride needs to hear."

"Come on, Rose. You know I'm not back to full strength yet."

"Deeper and deeper, Mr. Dawson!"

Jack finally succeeded in getting the door open and stepped inside. He set Rose down and turned to close and lock the door.

When he turned around, Rose threw her arms around him and kissed him. When they finally broke apart, Jack put a hand to Rose's face.

"Happy, Mrs. Dawson?"

"Very." Rose smiled. "I never thought that my wedding would be like this. It was wonderful, and now...now I'm going to spend my life with you. I can't imagine anything better."

Jack smiled back at her. "Neither can I. I never thought I would meet someone like you." He paused. "Rose, you changed something in me. You woke up that something that had been asleep in me for years, something that was missing. Before you, I would have been content to keep wandering forever, not staying anyplace for long. I didn't have a place I could call home, really. But now, home is wherever you are. I love you, Rose."

"Jack..." Rose put a hand to his face. "I...I...thank you. I feel the same way. I love you."

They kissed for a moment more, and then Jack pulled Rose over to sit on the end of the bed. "I have something for you."

Rose followed him, only then noticing what he had done with the room. "Oh...so this is where you went." She looked around at the transformation to their bedroom. Three candles in glass containers burned on the dresser, with bouquets of flowers in vases at either side. The covers on the bed had been turned back, and a small wrapped package sat in front of the candles.

"Like it?"

"It's beautiful...and romantic." Rose sat down beside Jack as he took the wrapped package from the dresser and handed it to her.

"Open it," he told her, as she turned it over in her hands.

Rose did as he asked, carefully opening the package. A box from the jewelry store where they had gotten their rings was inside. Slowly, she opened the box, revealing a delicate gold locket.

"Oh, Jack. This is beautiful."

"Look inside."

She opened the locket, looking at the two tiny pictures inside. Jack had drawn both of them, the pictures exquisitely detailed. One was a picture of him, the other of her.

"I drew those while I was in the hospital. It took a long time to get them just right—but I had plenty of time."

"They're wonderful. Every detail is perfect."

"Put it on," he encouraged her, taking the locket from the box and fastening it around her neck.

Rose touched the delicate gold chain, her fingers moving to touch the locket suspended from it. "Thank you, Jack. I'll always treasure it." She kissed him, then knelt down and opened the bottom drawer. "I have something for you, too." She pulled out a flat, wrapped package and handed it to him.

Jack opened it, to reveal a framed photograph of the view from the hill where they had first kissed. It had been taken near sunset, and the golden light made the grass and rocks appear to glow.

"Wow." Jack held it up, looking more closely at it.

"I took that picture just after we got engaged and had it blown up. That place is special to both of us. I've never forgotten that afternoon."

"Neither have I. I wonder what happened to that drawing I made of you."

"I found it a few days after the earthquake and retrieved it from the smashed remains of my car. I still have it."

"You do?"

Rose nodded. "Yes. It was more precious to me than anything else that I managed to retrieve, because you made it for me. Even when things were at their worst, I could look at it and remember how things used to be—and hope that they would get better."

"And they did." Jack kissed her. "I didn't think you'd kept it."

"I couldn't throw it away. Even after you were arrested, and I was so upset, I just tossed it into the back of the SUV. I didn't think to throw it away—and I'm glad I didn't." She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, Jack, and I've never been happier."

"Neither have I," he confessed, leaning forward to kiss her. He wrapped his arms around her, never breaking the kiss, as he gently eased her back against the bed.


	56. A Time of Peace 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Six

_Sunday, October 5, 2003_

Jack awakened slowly, nestled within the layers of blankets. Rose was still asleep, her head pillowed on his shoulder. As he stretched and settled back, she sighed softly, turning over and laying one arm across his chest.

Jack pulled her close, reluctant to wake her just yet. A glance at the clock told him that it was almost nine AM, but they could relax for a few minutes more. He smiled, thinking of the night just past.

They had made love twice the night before, first consummating their marriage with love and passion before falling asleep in each other's arms; hours later, they had awakened and reached toward each other again.

As Rose snuggled closer against him, he glanced at the clock again and realized that it was past nine.

"Rose," he whispered.

She opened one eye sleepily, then closed it again.

"Rose," he repeated, a little louder. "It's time to wake up."

"Mmm." Rose opened both eyes and looked at him. "Good morning."

"Morning." He kissed her.

Rose put her arms around him, laying her head on the pillow beside his. Sighing contentedly, she kissed him back, relishing their embrace for a few moments.

Finally, they broke apart and sat up. "What time is it?" Rose asked, noticing the amount of sunlight in the room.

"About nine," Jack told her, looking at the clock again.

"Nine! I never sleep that late."

"We didn't do much sleeping last night," Jack teased her, watching as she blushed slightly.

"Oh, I don't know. I feel pretty rested."

"That's good, because we need to get up. Your relatives are dropping by at eleven before they head for home. Besides, I promised you I'd take you somewhere today in honor of our wedding."

"We'd better get up, then, if we want to see them off and take off somewhere. Where are we going, by the way?"

"I thought we'd drive up to Idyllwild. It's in the mountains north of us, about an hour and a half drive from here."

"Idyllwild? I don't think I've ever been there."

"You're missing out, then. It's a nice little mountain town. Very artistic. And the leaves are changing color, so it should be a pleasant drive. There's also a lake near there, where we could have a picnic. Then, I thought I'd show you Cahuilla Tewanet Lookout Point, about halfway between the lake and the desert. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you can see bighorn sheep on the mountainside."

"I've been to Cahuilla Tewanet Lookout Point with my grandmother, because it isn't far from where she lives. We never saw any sheep, though."

"They're pretty rare now, but I was there once and I saw one. It was far away, but it was definitely a sheep, and it did have big horns."

"Did you get a picture of it?"

He shrugged. "No. I didn't have a camera, and it moved away too quickly for me to sketch it."

"Maybe we'll see one today." Rose got out of bed, tucking the covers up neatly beneath her pillow. "Do you want the first shower, or should I take it?"

"You go first. You usually take longer than me to get ready, anyway."

Rose gave him a mock scowl. "How do you know that? We've only been married one day."

"And we've been living in the same house for three and a half months."

Rose glanced at the clock; it read 9:15.

"It'll probably be quicker if we shower together," she told him, looking at him consideringly.

"You think so?"

"Sure." She walked around to his side of the bed and tugged on his hand. "Come on. Get up."

*****

"Remind me never to shower with you if I'm really in a hurry," Rose told Jack, walking out of the bathroom. Her face was flushed, from more than just the hot water.

"I guess it did take a little longer to shower together than apart," Jack responded, giving her a look that made her blush and giggle.

Rose tried to look dignified. "We'd better get dressed, lest my relatives walk in and find something really shocking to look at."

"Your grandmother doesn't strike me as the sort who would be shocked easily."

"Nevertheless, I'd rather not take a chance. It might be too much for her heart."

"Ha. Give her something else to analyze, more likely." Jack reached into the closet and pulled out some clothes, dressing quickly.

When he was done dressing and had combed out his hair, Rose was standing in front of the mirror, trying to get her hair to go just the way she wanted it.

"See? I told you that you take longer to get ready than me."

Rose eyed him balefully. "You're already gorgeous. I, on the other hand, need all the help I can get."

"No, you don't. You're beautiful without all the makeup and fancy hairstyles."

"You're very diplomatic."

"Nah, I was never much good at diplomacy. I'm telling the truth. Come on, you don't need all that makeup to go up to the mountains. You're dazzling without it."

"All right." Rose gave her hair one last stroke, then set the brush aside. "Am I presentable?"

"More than presentable. Come on. Let's get breakfast before your family members show up."

*****

After Rose's family members had departed, Jack and Rose started up to the mountains. Rose looked around with interest as they traveled. She hadn't been this far up the freeway since the day she had confronted Cal in jail.

As they drove through Temecula, they looked at all the construction going on. Temecula had been hard-hit by the earthquake, and it had taken a surprisingly long time for rebuilding to begin for such a well-to-do town. Many buildings were still in ruins, and several off ramps were blocked by cones to keep people from driving down them and causing more damage, or driving off broken overpasses. Two lanes were closed on their side of the freeway, making traffic slow, and one of the closed lanes still sported a huge crack running down the center of it for half a mile.

They finally reached the off ramp they needed, Winchester Road, and were relieved to find that it, at least, was open, though it took them fifteen minutes to get from the freeway to the end of the off ramp. Jack complained about the delay, commenting that it was no wonder Temecula had long been known as Trafficula.

Rose laughed, but once they got away from the freeway the road was clear. A better job had been done fixing the city streets and side roads than had been done on the freeway, so they traveled along quickly.

The road wound slowly to the southeast, going toward Warner Springs, but they turned off on Highway 379 and headed east toward the San Jacinto Mountains. Rose looked out her window at the scenery. She had never been out this way before.

The hillsides were brown, red, and yellow in the autumn sunlight. Summer-browned buckwheat dotted the landscape, while farther on the thick chaparral added its own beauty to the view. As they slowed on their way through Anza, Rose tugged on Jack's arm and pointed to some plants at the roadside.

"What are those things?"

"What things?"

"Those bushes. The ones with the long ribbons of peeling bark."

"I think those are called ribbonwood. And I know that those ones with the red-brown berries clinging to them are manzanita."

"They're called what?"

"Manzanita. That's Spanish for little apple." He shrugged. "You roam around enough, you learn a few things."

"They look like rotten apples."

"Some people like to eat them."

Rose wrinkled her nose and made a face.

"I guess they're okay, if people keep picking them."

"Did you ever try them?"

"No. They didn't quite look like something I wanted to put in my mouth, though when food was short and so was money, it did get tempting."

"I'd really have to be hungry to eat something that looks like a rotten apple."

Jack laughed as he pulled to a stop at the intersection of Highway 379 and Highway 74. "Lake Hemet is just a few miles from here. Do you want to stop and get some lunch, or do you want to drive to Idyllwild first?"

"Hemet is around here? I thought it was down in the valley."

"It is. They just gave the lake the same name."

"Weird. Wouldn't that confuse people?"

"It confused me the first time I came up here. I worked in Hemet back in 2000, so I came up here once. It didn't make much sense that the Lake Hemet was up here, but the town of Hemet was miles away in the valley."

"Let's stop at Lake Hemet first. I want to see it."

"Okay." They pulled into the parking lot of a small store first, the only one near the lake, and bought sandwiches, fruit, and cookies for their lunch, as well as a Forest Adventure pass so that they could park. Rose grumbled about the pass, remembering a time when parking was free in wild areas.

When they arrived at the lake, they walked around for a while, looking for a place to sit and eat their lunches. It was a warm, sunny day, so there were many people at the lake, fishing, picnicking, walking, and even barbecuing.

Jack and Rose walked along the shore until they found a quiet, shady spot with several scattered boulders. Squeezing together on one of the rocks, they ate companionably, talking about whatever entered their minds and watching the water lap against the shore.

When they had finished, they walked up the bank to the road and strolled back, hand-in-hand. Rose stopped to stare at a low bush with red berries on it.

"That looks almost like a rose bush, but smaller."

"It is a rose bush. It's wild rose."

"What are those berries on it? I've never seen them before."

"They're rose hips," commented a young woman who had been standing nearby. "They're edible." As if to prove her point, she picked one and put it in her mouth. "A bit seedy, but not bad."

Rose tried one. "Seedy is right," she said after a moment, picking one of the tiny seeds from between her teeth.

"Some people make tea of them," the woman told her, picking a handful and tucking them into her jacket pocket. "They're full of Vitamin C."

"Um...I think I'll stick with oranges." Rose tried to dislodge another seed from between her teeth. "Mari would love it up here," Rose commented to Jack, looking around. "She likes nothing better than to study plants. She took a class on spring wildflowers last year, and about drove Michelle and me crazy by bringing plant samples to the dorm to identify. Some of them were full of pollen or insects, and once she misidentified a plant and made tea out of it. The plant was jimsonweed."

"I'll bet she had some interesting visions."

"She insisted that her ex-boss was in the room and trying to kill her."

"Yeah, that's an interesting vision. She didn't happen to work for Sunpeak, did she?"

"No, she worked someplace in Perris the summer before she came to Elias University."

"Sounds like Perris's answer to Sunpeak."

"If that's possible."

"Trust me. It is."

They made their way back to the car. "We'll go to Idyllwild now, and then drive down to Cahuilla Tewanet Lookout Point when we come back this way."

"Okay," Rose agreed, fastening her seatbelt. "What's in Idyllwild?"

"Lots of artist's shops. There's everything from pottery to photographs to paintings sold. There's even a couple of places that sell things like stone jewelry, embroidered clothes, and even objects made from things like pine cones and acorns. There's even a totem pole in the middle of town carved from a single tree trunk and painted like those Indian totem poles up north."

"It sounds fascinating. Do you know any of the artists there?"

"A few, and I've had a few of my drawings and one of my paintings sold in one of the shops. I think you'll like it."

Jack was right. Rose was fascinated by the artistic appearance of the small mountain town. It was cooler there than farther down, but not cold. They found a parking space in the center of town and walked around, looking at the shops and buildings. There was a small art show in the center of town, so they walked around looking at the works displayed by local artists. Rose could hardly tear Jack away, and finally bought him a forty-five dollar painting that he was admiring.

After stashing the painting in the trunk of the car, Jack took Rose to one of the clothing shops he had mentioned and insisted upon buying her a long yellow dress with elaborate embroidery. Rose protested at first, but once he got her to try it on and look in the mirror, she allowed him to buy it for her.

Later, when they stopped for ice cream, Rose thanked him for bringing her up there.

"This has been a great day, Jack. I never knew this place existed. We'll have to come back sometime."

"I'm just sorry there's not time for a real honeymoon now. Maybe later, if we're both off from work at the same time, we can go somewhere for a few days. Probably not here, though. This place is expensive."

"Do you have the Friday after Thanksgiving off?"

"I think so. Why?" Jack was mystified by Rose's question.

"I have that whole weekend off, too. Maybe we could go somewhere then. Remember that day when I came over to Masline City College to thank you for saving my life, and we talked about going to Los Angeles sometime?"

Jack nodded. "I remember."

"Maybe we could go there, do some of the things we talked about."

"You still want to go there?"

"Yes."

"We'll go, then. We may not be able to do everything we talked about, but there's a lot to see and do there, so I'm sure we'll find something to do."

"What couldn't we do?"

"We probably won't be able to find a roller coaster that's safe to ride. I heard at work that at least one collapsed in the earthquake, the one at the Santa Monica Pier. Luckily, no one was riding it when it collapsed."

"Did you ever ride that one?"

"Yep. I also hung around and made sketches of tourists."

"You said something about that. Did you make much money?"

"Not really, but it was fun."

"Enjoying your work is one of the most important parts of working. If you hate what you do, it's not worth it."

"Some people would disagree with you on that."

"My mother certainly would." Rose looked down at her ice cream cone and changed the subject. "What else might we not be able to do?"

"You wanted to try surfing?"

"Yeah."

"I don't recommend it in November unless you have a wetsuit. The water gets pretty cold at that time of year."

"I know. I used to go to the beach in Oceanside. It was a pretty town. I wouldn't want to go there now, though. I don't think there's much left of it, after the San Onofre nuclear power plant blew up in the earthquake, and then that tsunami hit so many of the coastal towns. It's probably in ruins and full of radiation."

"It's said that the radiation from that nuclear accident went all over the state. The President insisted that it couldn't have been predicted, but you have to be an idiot to put a nuclear power plant in earthquake country."

"The stupidity of people in charge never fails to amaze me. My dad worked there for a while, and he said that it was impossible for an accident to occur."

"Yeah, and the Titanic was unsinkable."

Rose laughed dryly. "And they both killed a lot of people. My great-great-grandmother was on that ship, along with my great-grandfather, who was five years old at the time. They survived. My great-great-grandfather did not. Of course, they were in steerage, which explains a lot. Nana, whose father survived the Titanic, said that they escaped by climbing over the railing from the steerage deck and pushing their way to a lifeboat. Of course, great-great-grandpa never made it to a boat. They found him floating in the water the next morning, frozen to death because there weren't enough boats."

"That sucks. Why didn't they just put enough boats on board?"

"They had more than required by law."

"But not enough for everyone aboard."

"There were enough for the first class people, I'm sure. Hardly any of them died. But after that the law was changed, so that there has to be enough boats for everyone."

"I read in the paper that some cruise lines are trying to change that law to save money."

"They would. Idiots."

They finally reached the car and drove off in the direction of their last stop for the day. Rose was quiet, thinking about how often it was that the stupidest or meanest people had the most power and wishing that there was something she could do to change that.

"We're there." Jack's voice broke into her thoughts. She looked up to see that they were in the lookout point parking lot. Stretching, she got out of the car, looking around at the clumps of yucca and scrub oak covering the dry hills. A century plant, its bloom completed, towered over them, looking for all the world like a giant stalk of asparagus gone to seed.

They walked around the paved trails together, reading the signs telling the history of the area and the identification of many of the plants, the descriptions now hopelessly out of date for many. Making their way up to the observing deck, they looked out over the sunlit hillsides, but no sheep were in sight. A few squirrels raced about on the ground below, bickering over a package of peanuts that someone had dropped, but nothing else moved.

They sat together on the bench, looking over the landscape. Rose leaned her head against Jack's shoulder.

"It's beautiful out here."

"It is. Look at the way the sunlight hits the leaves of those bushes, making them light up."

"Have you ever drawn this place?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I haven't had time the few times I've been here."

"Do you think there's time to draw it today? I want to remember this day."

Jack looked at the angle of the sun. It would be a couple of hours until it got dark.

"I think so—but I want you in it, too."

Rose smiled. "Where should I stand?"

Jack stood up and walked around, considering. "Sit on that rock there, near the lit up bush. Don't move. There's a cactus right behind you."

Rose sat where he indicated, giving the cactus a nervous look before turning to face him.

"That's great. Now, just look at me."

Rose kept her gaze focused on him as he bent over his work, his face intent. Every so often, he stopped and looked at the scene before him for a few moments before returning to his work.

It was growing dark by the time he finished, signing and dating the drawing. In the fading light, Rose came to look at it, admiring the way he had captured the beauty of the scene.

"We'd better be heading back," he told her, looking at the setting sun. It was nearly dark over the desert, and growing dark where they were. Rose walked back to the car with him, reluctant for the day to end.

"I've had a great day, Jack," she told him as they headed up Highway 74.

"I've enjoyed it, too. I'd much rather be here with you than alone. I've never met anyone who appreciated all this quite so much."

"It was wonderful, all the things we saw. I can't believe I've never come up here before."

"Are you glad you did?"

"Oh, yes. Idyllwild is great, with all those artistic shops, and Lake Hemet is so peaceful, even with all the people around."

"Even when you eat rose hips?"

"Actually, they didn't really taste that bad. I just didn't like the seeds." She laughed. "Maybe someone should develop seedless rose hips."

"I think they already did." Jack poked her in the side.

"Jack!" Rose laughed, wiggling away from him. "Pay attention to the road."

"I am. I am."

*****

They reached Masline around 7:30. Jack stopped by the supermarket on the way home, remembering that it was his week to make dinner and he hadn't even bought any food yet. There wasn't time to do all the grocery shopping, so he stopped by the deli to pick up chicken and salad. Rose, realizing how late it was getting, hurried to find French bread and milk.

She stopped short when she hurried around a corner and came face-to-face with her mother.

"Mom."

"Rose."

Rose looked at her mother's shopping cart. It held some frozen meals, a few fresh vegetables—and a gallon jug of wine. Apparently getting Rose out of the house hadn't changed Ruth's drinking habits any.

"What are you doing here, Rose?"

"I'm grocery shopping, the same as you."

"You're just married, and your husband already has you doing all the chores. Where is your husband, anyway?"

"He's at the deli, getting some food for dinner. It's his week to cook, but there isn't time to fix anything. We've been in the mountains all day."

"No honeymoon, Rose? Even your father did better than that."

Rose bristled, but kept her temper. "There isn't time now. We're planning on getting away for a few days over Thanksgiving weekend."

"If he really cared, he would have made time."

"We are making time—over Thanksgiving. We have both have to work tomorrow."

"And where did you spend your wedding night—some cheap hotel?"

Rose gritted her teeth, giving her mother a sickly sweet smile. "We spent it at home, behind locked doors."

"Be careful that you don't wind up getting pregnant. That would put a damper on your career."

"Mom, I am not discussing our plans regarding children with you. I just hope that when the time comes that we do have children, you will remember that you are their only grandparent, and treat them well."

"What about your husband's family?"

"They're dead." Rose glared at her.

"Well, Rose, I hope you're happy. I still feel you've made a mistake, but you never did listen to me."

"I used to listen to you. I wanted to be like you when I was little, and get your approval, but you never could be bothered to notice."

"Get my approval? Rose, every move you've made from the day you were born was calculated to annoy me. You're just like your father."

"Well, thank God for small favors!" Rose snapped at her, her hands tightening around the handles of the basket she held. "I'd rather be like him than like you! At least he had a heart! All you've got is a lump of ice. You couldn't even be bothered to come to my wedding—and I'm your only child. It's not as if you're drowning in weddings to attend."

"Rose, lower your voice. You're attracting attention."

"Maybe I want to attract attention. Maybe I want to show people just who you are—not the professional businesswoman, but the lush who drinks three gallons of wine a week."

"Rose!"

Jack heard the shouting and immediately knew who was fighting. Dropping his selections into the basket, he hurried in the direction of the voices, pushing past other people who had gathered around to stare. Rose was standing eye to eye with her mother, shouting about her drinking habits. As he pushed through the crowd, Ruth shouted at her daughter, garnering an equally rude response from Rose.

"Mother, shut up!" She turned to walk away, only then noticing the crowd that had gathered. Her face flushed as she saw Jack walking toward her.

"Mom, this is my husband, Jack Dawson. I believe you met once."

"Yes. So you're the one who drove her ex-fiancé to attempt murder."

"Mom..." Rose's voice was lower now, and much more dangerous. "Cal's actions were of his own choosing, as were mine. Don't you dare lay the blame on Jack."

Jack looked at the two of them, unsure whether to intervene or not. Ruth finally looked straight at him, plastering a fake smile on her face.

"So, you're my son-in-law. Charmed, I'm sure."

"Mom..." Rose turned and stalked up the aisle, forgetting what she had come for. Jack hurried after her, grabbing the items she had forgotten.

"What was that all about?" he asked her when they got in line.

"You've just met my mother, Ruth DeWitt-Bukater. She's usually more polite than this, but I'm willing to bet that she's already had a few glasses of wine tonight. Usually, she's exemplary in public. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You two really don't get along, do you?"

"No, we don't. We really haven't in a long time."

Jack shook his head. "Rose, if there's anything I can do to help..."

"Thank you, Jack, but no. Don't interfere right now. Mom and I are both upset with each other, and we really can't see eye to eye. Maybe after a while we'll cool down...maybe."


	57. A Time of Peace 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Seven

_Tuesday, November 4, 2003_

Jack and Rose settled into married life quickly. In many ways, nothing had changed—they lived in the same house as before, shared meals with their roommates, and snuggled together in front of the television most evenings. In other ways, things had changed—for the better. Rather than parting each evening, they now retreated to their own room at the end of the day, and awoke together in the mornings, often nestled together, their shared warmth taking the chill off of even the coldest autumn nights. Beyond that, marriage felt different to them, though they could never explain it or define it as such to each other or to anyone else. It was just something that they felt, that they both instinctively knew and understood about each other, without words being said.

Early in November, Rose was at work went she got a surprising phone call. It had been a quiet morning, with only a few calls and no crises, so Rose was relaxed when she reached to answer the phone—but the voice on the other end immediately made her wary.

"May I speak with Rose Dawson, please?"

"Speaking." Rose tensed, recognizing the voice.

"Rose, this is your mother. What time is your lunch break?"

"One," Rose replied, wondering why Ruth was calling. She hadn't realized that her mother knew where she worked. "What's going on?"

"I have something I need to discuss with you."

"Why? What's happened? Did something happen to Nana or David?"

"They're fine, Rose. This has to do with your husband."

"What about Jack?"

"This is best not discussed over the phone. Can you meet me at the Sizzler on Eighth Street in Southland at one o'clock?"

"Mom, it's a forty-five minute drive there. I don't get off for lunch until one, and I can't drive there and back in an hour."

"Fine. I'll meet you in Masline, then. Where would you like to meet?"

Rose usually went to the fast food restaurant next door to the clinic for lunch or brought food from home, but she knew that her mother would disdain McDonald's as a meeting place. "Why don't you meet me at Angie's Diner at 1:15?"

"I don't much care for that place."

"It's either that or fast food. That's all that Masline has these days."

Ruth was silent for a moment. "All right, Rose. I will see you at Angie's."

Another line rang on Rose's phone, so she cut the conversation short. "There's another call, Mom. I'll see you then. Good-bye."

After she had answered the second call, Rose turned to the computer to log information about the visits to the clinic over the last two weeks. As she worked, she wondered what Ruth had to say about Jack. A part of her hoped that her mother had finally accepted her marriage, but given her reaction the last time they had met, she doubted it. She wasn't sure what her mother had to say, but she suspected it wouldn't be anything good.

Rose was right. As soon as they were seated in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant, Ruth started in.

"I've learned a few things about your husband that I was disturbed to hear."

"Such as?"

"He has a criminal record going back to the age of seventeen."

Rose took a sip of water. "I know."

"You know?!"

"He told me, the first time we talked. He was a gang member, specializing in petty theft."

"Did you know that he spent time in juvenile hall?"

"Yes."

"And yet, knowing these things, you still married him."

"He's stayed out of trouble since he was released from juvenile hall."

"Except for that incident last May when he stole your engagement ring."

"He didn't steal it. Cal slipped it into his pocket."

"And why would Cal have done that?"

"To discredit him in my eyes, most likely. He wasn't happy about my breaking the engagement."

"You undoubtedly could have saved a lot of trouble if you hadn't broken it."

"In some ways, yes. In others...well...let's just say I'd rather be alive than dead."

"He wouldn't have gotten so angry that he tried to shoot you if you hadn't started the trouble in the first place."

Rose stiffened, but kept her temper, not wanting to cause another scene. "Maybe. But I doubt it. I told you how he abused me."

"You never showed any signs of being abused."

"Most of the time, it didn't show. I wore clothes that covered the bruises, makeup to cover the slap marks. But there was one time when it was so obvious that I was hurt that I made up a story to cover it."

"When was that?"

"That morning back in April when I 'fell down the stairs'. I didn't fall down the stairs. Cal beat me senseless and knocked my head against the dining room table."

"Why didn't you say something then?"

Rose was silent for a moment, still unwilling to tell her mother just why she had kept quiet. Finally, she asked her, "Would you have believed me?"

"I still don't believe you."

"There's your answer. Why should I discuss something like that with someone who would accuse me of lying?" Her eyes narrowed. "How did you get this information about Jack anyway?"

"I received a letter from Cal. He is allowed to send letters out from prison, you know, as long as the recipient doesn't object. Of course, the letters are checked first, but information about someone else's criminal history is allowed."

"And, of course, you lapped up every word of it, every word confirming what a foolish choice your daughter has made. Why should I marry a petty thief, when I could have married a would-be killer?"

"Rose!" Ruth looked at her sharply. "I was trying to warn you about what you've gotten yourself into. You have good reason to seek a divorce. After all, if you unknowingly married a criminal..."

"Jack isn't a criminal, Mom, and I don't want a divorce. I'm very happy being married to him."

"He is a criminal, Rose."

"No, Mom, he isn't. He paid his debt to society. Once that was done, he was no longer a criminal. Some people do learn their lesson, believe it or not."

"Then why didn't you give Cal a second chance?"

"I did. I gave him a second chance, and a third chance, and a fourth chance...you get the picture. He would hit me, and then act contrite, bring me flowers or something, and promise that it would never happen again. A month later, he would do it again, and act contrite, and apologize profusely. But the incidents got closer and closer together, and eventually he stopped acting so apologetic, except for when he knew he was really in trouble. He blamed me for his behavior, and I finally had enough."

"So you turned to another man."

"Jack loves me. He was one of my closest friends even before I ended things with Cal. I'd loved him for a long time before I decided to act on my feelings."

"And how does Jack treat you?"

"With love and respect. He doesn't hit me, or threaten me, or make me feel like I'm stupid and worthless—all of which Cal did."

"Rose...I just think you could do so much better."

Rose shook her head. "No, Mom, I couldn't. Jack is the best, and I love him."

"You're living in a run-down, rented house with two other people."

"There's more to life than how much money we have. I'll concede, we probably could afford to move elsewhere—but the fact of the matter is all four of us are content with the arrangement. The rent is low, the neighborhood is pleasant, and there's plenty of room for all of us. We get along well, and there's worse things than living with your friends." She paused, sighing. "Mom, can't you please at least try to accept my marriage? I'm happy, and I'm married to the man I want to spend my life with. Jack gives me everything that's really important."

"Which is why you're working, at a time when you should be pursuing college full-time."

"I go to college in the evenings. It will take a little longer for me to get a degree—but I haven't really decided what I want yet, anyway."

"You wanted a degree in business."

"No, Cal wanted me to get a degree in business. I was bored stiff. I like working, but I don't want to be a businesswoman. It just doesn't appeal to me."

"You have to make a living somehow."

"I am. I'm working as an office assistant, which, believe it or not, is actually a pretty good job."

"Your husband should be supporting you until you've finished your education."

"Did Dad support you?"

"I was already finished with college when I married your father. Don't try to change the subject, Rose."

"I wasn't trying to." Rose's voice was tense. Ruth was beginning to wear on her nerves. "Jack and I support each other, as a married couple should. If it should happen that one of us becomes unemployed, the other will pick up the slack."

"I still think—"

"Mom, I've heard just about enough."

"Don't speak to me that way, Rose."

"What do you expect? You call me at work, get me to meet you here, and then start in on how bad my husband is—when you've only met him twice and know almost nothing about him! Maybe you should get to know him before you make any judgments."

"I know enough, Rose. Enough to know that you're going to get hurt if you stay in this marriage. You may think he's changed, but one day you'll find out differently."

"Then it will be my problem, and my decision as to what to do. Don't judge all men by Dad, Mom. Just because he hurt you doesn't mean that Jack will hurt me."

"Your father never laid a hand on me."

"But he cheated on you, ran around with other women, neglected us. You two would have been better off divorced, but not everyone is like Dad. Just because Jack has a questionable past doesn't mean that he's going to hurt me."

"That kind of man will always hurt you."

"Not always, Mom. I wish you would give him a chance before you start judging him." Unexpectedly, tears threatened, but Rose blinked them back. Glancing at her watch, she told Ruth, "I need to be getting back to work. I hope that next time we meet, you'll be a little more open-minded." She got up and walked away, leaving Ruth staring after her, shaking her head.

*****

Rose was still thinking about the conversation with her mother that evening. Tense, and more upset over the meeting than she cared to admit, she went to bed early, taking a couple of aspirin to ease her headache. She was leaning against the bed, searching through her bookcase for something to read, when Jack walked in.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, sliding down to the floor next to her.

Rose nodded tiredly. "I'm fine. I just had a really long day. Mom called me at work, and got me to meet her for lunch. Of course, she immediately started in on how stupid I was to marry you, and how bad you are. Somehow, Cal managed to find out about your past, and told Mom about it in a letter."

"I suspected that he knew, right from the time he tried to frame me for the theft of your ring."

"He keeps causing trouble, even though he's in prison."

"Don't let it get to you."

"It's hard not to let it get to me. I'd like to forget—but I can't."

"It's better that we don't forget. That way, we'll know to watch out for him."

"I know." Rose leaned her head against his shoulder, her book lying forgotten beside her.

"What are you reading?" Jack picked up the book and looked at the title. "_Wild Western Desire_?"

Rose blushed. "It's hilarious and thoroughly without meaning—just what I need to relax."

Jack leafed through it. "Hmm...I see what you mean. This would put me right to sleep."

Rose laughed. "Have you ever read one of these romance novels?"

"Only once, when I was a freshman in high school. I wanted to see what the girls thought was so great about these books."

"And did you figure it out?"

"No. It's romance."

"You're a guy." Rose took the book back. "I don't expect you to understand."

"I understand enough." He pulled Rose into his arms as she set the book on a shelf.

Rose relaxed, returning the embrace. They kissed, leaning back against the bed, until Jack pulled her closer against him and pushed her gently back against the carpet.

At this, a terrified look crossed Rose's face and she pushed at him, breaking the kiss. "No! Stop!"

Jack looked at her, confused by her sudden change in demeanor. One moment, she was warm and responsive, and the next, she was terrified, shoving him away. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what was wrong. She had never reacted this way before.

Rose struggled, finally succeeding in pushing him away. Getting to her feet, she burst into tears and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Jack got up, more confused than ever. What was going on?

After a few minutes, he knocked on the bathroom door. Rose didn't answer. He tried the door, and finding it unlocked, slipped inside. Rose was sitting on the edge of the tub, crying and rocking herself gently. She didn't appear to notice him.

"Rose?" Jack sat on the edge of the tub next to her. "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer. He moved closer, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she cringed, moving away from him.

"Don't...don't..." She choked on a sob.

"Don't what, Rose?"

"Don't do that. Please."

"What?"

"Don't...rape me."

"I'm not going to. You know that all you have to say is no. Have I ever given you reason to think differently?"

She finally looked at him. "No...but when you pushed me down to the floor...I thought..."

"Why? Why does the floor...make you so uncomfortable?" When she didn't answer, he queried, "Does it have something to do with Cal?"

She finally nodded, not looking at him. "That morning...back in April...he took me on the floor of the dining room."

"It still upsets you."

"Yes. I know, it's stupid to let it bother me after so long. It's been almost seven months...I hate him!" She stood, suddenly furious. "He hurt me...he almost killed you...and he won't let us be! He has a nice, cushy life in prison—"

"Rose, believe me, prison life is anything but nice. People who say it is probably haven't been there. You may be provided for and taken care of, but you're stuck with an awful lot of people who aren't very nice, including the other prisoners. You don't have any freedom, and you're stuck there, like it or not."

"It's still too good for him." She slumped, suddenly tired. "I never want to hear from him again."

"He has a restraining order. He's not allowed to send you anything or phone you."

"But he does communicate with Mom."

"And that's half the problem, isn't it? She's still angry that you ended your engagement in the first place, and she's resentful of the fact that you're happy."

"I never thought about it that way—but you're right. She does resent the fact that I've found happiness. She and Dad were so unhappy, and she wants to believe that I've made the same mistake she did."

"I won't hurt you, Rose. I promise. I meant every word of the vows I made on our wedding day. I won't run around on you, or abandon you...or abuse you like Cal did. You have my word on that."

"I know. I don't what got into me just now."

"You're tired, and you panicked."

"Something else you learned from studying psychology?"

"Probably." He stood up, hugging her.

Rose leaned against him tiredly. "I'm sorry."

"Shh." He pulled her head against his shoulder, rubbing her back. "I think what you need is a good night's rest. Just sleep," he added, when she looked up at him.

"I think you're right."

They walked out of the bathroom together and slipped quietly into bed. Rose turned her lamp out and snuggled against Jack, putting her arms around him.

"I love you, Jack. Thank you for not getting upset."

"There wasn't anything to be upset about." He held her tight. "I love you, Rose. That's not going to change, I promise."

Rose's only response was to kiss him and nestle closer, laying her head beside his in a gesture of love and trust.


	58. A Time of Peace 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Eight

_Saturday, November 15, 2003_

"I am so nervous!" Rose complained, searching through her side of the closet for a long black skirt. Auditions for the musical the college was putting on in the spring were that morning and the thought of auditioning made her agitated.

"You'll do fine," Jack assured her, pulling on a shirt and buttoning it quickly. "Even if you don't get the part you're auditioning for, you'll get a smaller part, or at least be included in the chorus."

"I don't know." Rose found a suitable skirt and pulled it on. "Maybe I should forget about it. I'm sure that there are much better singers than me."

"Not many, and you'll never know if you don't try. Have you ever sung on stage before?"

"I was in a musical my junior year of high school, though I just had a small part, and I sang a hymn in front of the congregation at church once."

"You see? You can do it."

"That was a long time ago."

"If you really don't want to audition, I won't push you, but I think you do. You've been practicing that song for the last week and a half."

"I'm sure everyone is tired of it."

"After the first twenty repetitions, yeah, we got a little tired of hearing it. Of course, anything would be boring if you heard it twenty times in three days."

Rose laughed. "All right. You've convinced me. I'll audition. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Jack gave her look of mock alarm. "You're scaring me, Rose. You really are."

"Oh, shut up." She pulled a loose T-shirt on. "I have to run. Auditions start at eight, and I want to warm up my voice first."

"Break a leg."

"I hope not!" Rose retorted, laughing, as she hurried out the door.

*****

The backstage area was already teeming when Rose arrived at Masline City College. She slipped into the small theater, where a number of people were preparing for their auditions by warming up their voices and stretching in preparation for dancing.

After she had signed up, Rose joined a small group gathered around the piano and singing scales. When she was satisfied that her vocal cords were sufficiently warmed up, she did some stretching exercises to get ready for the dance audition.

The dance director's assistant was teaching groups of people a simple dance number in an open area of the workshop. Rose joined the newest group and paid careful attention as the assistant demonstrated the dance steps. She had always enjoyed dancing, had always been good at it, and she hoped that if she didn't get the singing role she wanted, she would at least get a part dancing in the chorus.

She thought that the dance portion of her audition went well, even when she had to quickly move out of the way of the girl dancing beside her. The girl was doing her best, but she had absolutely no rhythm or timing and forgot half the steps, sending her blundering into Rose's way.

At ten o'clock, Rose was finally called in for the singing portion of her audition. She walked onto the open stage, her heart thumping nervously. The directors told her to stand in a spot marked by a masking tape X on the stage, and she couldn't resist looking up to see if there was something dangling over her head, waiting to fall on her.

"You're auditioning for the role of Mary Magdalene, right?" the director, James Anderson, asked her.

Rose nodded. "Right."

"Okay, Sylvia's going to play _I Don't Know How to Love Him_, and we'll see how you sing." He gestured to the pianist, indicating that they were ready to begin.

Rose listened to the opening notes, then began to sing.

_I don't know how to love him  
What to do  
How to move him  
I've been changed  
Yes really changed  
In these past few days  
When I've seen myself  
I seem like someone else..._

Her voice rang out loud and clear, filling the empty theater. Even the pianist looked impressed.

When she came to the end of the song, she saw the directors conferring among themselves, taking notes on her audition.

"Thank you, Rose," James told her. "We'll be announcing the cast members at eleven."

Rose nodded. "So I should wait around?"

"Yes, wait around. We'll be announcing all roles, including the chorus, at that time."

"Thank you." Rose smiled and turned to leave the stage, relieved that she had gotten through the audition without making a fool of herself. From the looks on the directors' faces, she was certain that she would at least be included in the chorus.

*****

At 11:30, Rose came in the door at home. Jack was sitting in the kitchen, sketching a picture of an unusually shaped squash that Helga had found and put on the table as a centerpiece.

"How did it go?" he asked, looking up from his work.

Rose fought to keep an even expression. "Well..." She sat down next to him and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, no. It couldn't have been that bad. What happened?"

Rose could no longer keep her blank expression. A huge smile broke out across her face. "I got the part! I did it!" she squealed.

"I knew you could do it! Didn't I tell you so?"

"Yes. You were right. Rose Dawson is a force to be reckoned with!" She threw her hands up in the air, clapping. "Yahoo!"

Jack laughed and got to his feet, pulling Rose from her chair and whirling her around.

"Jack!" Rose grabbed his hands and pulled him into the living room. They collapsed on the couch, still laughing.

"What's going on?" Helga came down the hall, a handful of things she had been putting away in the nursery still in her hands.

"I got the part!" Rose told her, sitting up. "I'm going to play Mary Magdalene in _Jesus Christ Superstar_."

"Congratulations. Does this mean you'll find a new song to sing?"

Rose made a face at her. "Maybe."

"Please do, or this kid's going to pop out and sing instead of cry." She patted her swollen middle.

Rose laughed. "Wouldn't that be better than crying?"

"Which would you rather hear at two AM? Crying or singing?"

"Good point." Rose grimaced. "Okay. I'll find a new song."

"Maybe you could find several of them," Jack suggested. "Just to give us a little variety." Glancing at Helga, he added, "Just to teach the baby a little variety."

"Just so long as that variety doesn't include anything bawdy," Helga interjected. "Like that song about the master of the house."

"You guys are ganging up on me," Rose complained half-jokingly.

"You're right," Helga told her.

"No, we're not," Jack assured her at the same time.

Rose looked at them both assessingly. "You're confusing me," she announced calmly. "I think I'll just go and practice my songs again."

"No! Give us a break, please. Your voice is beautiful, but that song is getting old," Helga pleaded.

"Oh, all right. If you feel that strongly about it," Rose teased, sinking back down beside Jack.

"I do, I do. I never thought I'd say this, but I actually miss your folk songs."

"Of course you do. If I don't sing them, you'll have to remember them all by yourself." At Helga's dubious expression, Rose pointed out, "I've heard you singing them. I saw you singing through a paper towel tube to the baby one day. That song about the newborn baby."

At Helga's blush, Jack started laughing. "You were singing through a paper towel tube?"

"It helps the sound get to the baby," Helga protested, her face still red. "Studies have shown that babies who listen to music do better when they get to school."

"We'll have to remember that—in a year or two," Rose told her, flopping back on the couch and putting her feet up.


	59. A Time of Peace 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Fifty-Nine

_Thursday, November 27, 2003_

"Jack! Are you about ready to go?" Rose called, carrying her suitcase and purse into the kitchen. It was Thanksgiving, and they were on their way first to the Flemings' home in Palm Desert for the holiday, and then for the rest of the weekend to Los Angeles.

"Just about. I'm making sure everything is locked up," Jack responded, checking the lock on the back door. Tommy and Helga had already left to spend the holiday with relatives, leaving Jack and Rose to secure the house before they left for the weekend.

"Whose car are we taking?" Rose asked, picking up her belongings and heading for the front door.

Jack thought for a minute. "Let's take yours. Mine needs an oil change, and there isn't time for that right now."

"Sure." Rose waited while Jack locked the front door behind them. "Do you want me to drive?"

"To Palm Desert, at least. I'm not sure how to get there."

It was a clear, sunny November morning, the weather pleasantly cool. It was about a two and a half hour drive to Palm Desert from Masline, so they were setting out early. Jack had already made reservations at a hotel in Palm Springs so that they wouldn't have to drive to Los Angeles at night, and they would go there first before going to the Flemings' house in Palm Desert for the afternoon. Jack had suggested that they find a place to stay in Palm Desert for the night, to save the extra driving around, but had given up that idea after he had confirmed what Rose had told him—Palm Desert was more expensive than Palm Springs, which had grown far more affordable during the past few years.

They set off, Rose driving, in the direction of Temecula, from which they could take the back roads to Palm Desert and avoid much of the holiday traffic. She was quiet as they drove, her expression pensive.

"Penny for your thoughts," Jack told her after a while.

"Mom's going to be there tonight," Rose told him, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"Wonderful." Jack sighed, knowing how Rose and Ruth didn't get along, and how much Ruth disliked him, in spite of only having met him twice. "When did you find this out?"

"Yesterday. I called Nana to see if Mom was coming. In past years, we've always gone to visit Nana for Thanksgiving, but after everything that's happened, I wasn't sure what was going on. But Mom is coming, along with David's daughter, Rebecca, and us. Rebecca's nice. You'll like her. She's a couple of years younger than Mom, and nothing like her."

"But we still have to deal with your mother."

"She'll probably be civil, at least. She likes to put up a good front, if nothing else, and Nana always hides the wine from her after about one glass."

"Is your mother an alcoholic?"

"I think so, though she adamantly denies it. David thinks so, too, and he does substance abuse counseling, so he should know. She's been drinking too much since Dad died three years ago. I don't know if she even realizes how much she drinks. When I was living with her, she would always drink out of a small wineglass—but she would drink glass after glass, all evening. I counted once, and she went through eight glasses of wine in an evening. When Cal and I got engaged, he ordered a bottle of fine wine at the restaurant. Cal and I each had one glass—and Mom drank the rest. Cal told her she'd had enough, and Mom told him that he was a fine one to talk, since he'd given wine to an eighteen-year-old. I'm not sure I see the connection, but fortunately, there wasn't that much in the bottle to start with, so she didn't get too intoxicated."

"Your mother and my Uncle William would get along famously—he likes his beer."

"Is he a mean drunk?"

"Emmaline certainly thinks so. He scares her and her brothers. Of course, he's got a mean streak anyway, so who knows?"

"Mom isn't usually mean when she's had too much too drink. She gets argumentative and sad. She used to tell me how I should be grateful for everything she'd sacrificed for me, especially when I was upset with Cal, which was often."

"Did you and your mother ever get along?"

"We got along better when I was younger, though we always clashed a little. I guess it's normal for mother and daughter to disagree, but sometimes it got a little out of control. Mom was always very concerned with appearances and what everyone else thought, and I really embarrassed her sometimes, especially when I was a little kid and when I was an adolescent. She wanted everybody to think we had the perfect family, the perfect life. And a lot of people thought things did look perfect—even when I wore something strange to church, or sulked about something. That's what a lot of kids do. But Mom was always afraid that someone would gossip about her—small wonder, since she liked to gossip herself."

"What is it she dislikes so much about me?"

"You're not well-to-do, you're not Cal, you're an ex-felon...and anything else she might come up with. Once Mom decides she doesn't like someone, wild horses can't change her opinion."

"I'm no worse than Cal."

"You're a lot better than Cal, in my opinion. You've never tried to kill anyone."

"No, that's something I never tried. I never wanted to kill anyone…well, except maybe Cal, but he's safely in prison."

"I'm glad to hear that. It raises my opinion of you a notch."

"I thought it was already high," Jack teased her as they came to a stop in the freeway traffic.

"It is...but things can always get better." Rose grinned at him, then turned her attention back to the road as traffic slowly began to move again.

*****

They arrived in Palm Springs around noon. After checking into their motel, they headed back down the 10 freeway to Palm Desert.

David and Kathleen Fleming lived in a modest house in one of the residential areas of the city. Despite the fact that it was no larger than the one Jack and Rose lived in, it was considerably more expensive, having cost about seven hundred thousand dollars new. Had the Flemings been of a mind to rent it out, it would have rented for approximately five thousand dollars a month.

In spite of the dryness and heat of the desert, the front lawn was lush and green, the result of being watered three times a day, and tall green trees lined the sidewalks. The landscaping represented an appalling waste of resources, though the Flemings' backyard, out of the eyesight of neighbors, was much better adapted to the area, decorated with various cacti, desert shrubs, and drought-resistant flowers.

"Rose! It's good to see you!" Rebecca Fleming greeted them at the door.

"Hi, Aunt Rebecca." Rose hugged her grandmother's stepdaughter, then turned to introduce Jack. "Aunt Rebecca, this is my husband, Jack Dawson."

"Pleased to meet you, Jack." Rebecca shook his hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your wedding," she told them. "I just got back to the United States last week."

"Aunt Rebecca's in the Peace Corps," Rose explained to Jack. "She's been working in Africa for the past couple of years."

"What did you do over there?" Jack wanted to know.

"Medical work. I'm a registered nurse. I've worked with a lot of people, but especially with kids. Every time you turn around, there's some new war, famine, or epidemic, and the kids get the worst of it." She turned and headed for the kitchen. "Have you two had lunch yet?"

"Not yet. We were going to go and get something," Rose told her.

"Kathleen wants the leftovers eaten before she comes back from the supermarket with food for Thanksgiving. We might as well clean out the refrigerator for lunch. I'll go get Dad."

David joined them a few minutes later, after Rebecca had pried him away from his latest computer game. "Those things are addictive," he apologized, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Good to see you, Rose, Jack. Rose, your grandmother should be back shortly. She went to the supermarket. Your mother isn't here yet. She called and said she'd be by around two."

"Thanks, David." Rose wasn't looking forward to seeing her mother, but she smiled anyway and offered him some leftover casserole. The scent of roasting turkey filled the kitchen, and several freshly baked pies were in the refrigerator, probably David or Rebecca's work, since Kathleen had never been a very good cook.

At least she had some time to prepare herself before Ruth showed up. Rose tried to put thoughts of her mother out of her mind as she listened to Rebecca's stories of her work in Africa.

*****

It was just past two o'clock when Ruth arrived. Jack and Rose were sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table in the living room, playing cards, when Ruth walked in.

Rose got to her feet immediately, feeling at a distinct disadvantage to be sitting on the floor when her mother was standing. "Mom."

"Hello, Rose." Ruth's sharp eyes took in Rose's appearance, lingering critically on her flat midsection.

Jack stood beside his wife. "Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater."

Ruth looked a little startled at the polite greeting, as though she couldn't believe that her daughter's ex-convict husband was capable of such. Stiffly, she replied, "Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too." She glanced once more at her daughter, then turned toward the kitchen, where she could hear her mother and stepsister's voices. "Excuse me."

Jack stared after her. Rose looked relieved that there hadn't been a confrontation.

"What was that all about?" Jack asked Rose, who put her arms around him for strength.

"I think she was assessing us, especially me. From the way she stared at me, I think she was trying to determine whether I'm pregnant or not. In her opinion, a child would seriously interfere with my career." She sighed. "In a year or two, I want to have a child…and I want a career, too. There's no reason why I couldn't balance both."

"Especially if you have someone to help." Jack kissed her, then settled down across the coffee table from her again. "Whenever we have children, I'll be there to help. You can count on that."

Rose picked up her cards again. "I know. Thank you, Jack. In spite of Mom seems to think, I know that I made the right decision in marrying you. I'm one of the luckiest women alive, having a husband like you."

*****

Rose and Ruth avoided each other most of the afternoon, staying in separate rooms whenever possible. When the entire group gathered in the backyard before dinner, Jack and Rose walked out into the yard, throwing a tennis ball for Kathleen's dog, while Ruth stayed on the patio, giving her opinion on Rebecca's work and on poverty and struggle in general, much to the irritation of her stepsister.

At dinner, Kathleen and David brought the food from the kitchen into the dining room, much to the delight of their guests. Rebecca avowed that she hadn't had such a feast in so long she'd forgotten what it was like, while Ruth eyed the bottle of wine her mother had brought out. It was a small bottle, Rose noticed, with only enough for each person to have one glass.

Kathleen walked around, pouring wine for each person except Rose. When she got to Jack, he shook his head and waved the wine away.

"No, thanks. I never did like wine much," he explained.

"It's an acquired taste," David agreed.

"One that you're better off not acquiring," Rebecca added, giving a significant look to Ruth. Ruth barely glanced at her, but instead looked at Jack as though he were deliberately trying to make her look bad by not drinking.

Ruth and Rose remained civil to each other throughout the meal, making only polite comments when they spoke to each other at all. When it appeared that there would be no confrontation, everyone relaxed, listening while David told some of his worst jokes.

It wasn't until after dessert that Ruth finally decided to talk directly to her daughter and son-in-law. Jack and Rose were reclining on the living room sofa, relaxing after the large meal, when she came in and sat in an easy chair across from them.

Rose looked up at her mother, who sat in the easy chair like a queen looking down on her subjects from a throne. She sat up, nudging a drowsy Jack to sit up with her.

Ruth looked at them for a moment, then turned her attention to Jack. "So, you're my son-in-law," she began, looking him over critically.

"Ah...yes, ma'am. I am," Jack said, a little intimidated by her.

"How did you meet my daughter?"

Jack glanced at Rose, who gave a small shake of her head. She had never told about her attempt to commit suicide by jumping off the landing at the library.

"We met at the library at Elias University," Jack told Ruth, giving her the version of the story Rose had given to the cops. "Rose dropped something over the railing on the landing, and almost fell trying to reach it."

"And you kept her from falling."

"Yes, Mom, he did," Rose interrupted, not wanting to go any farther into the subject than necessary.

"And you found it necessary to see him again." Ruth looked at Rose. "Even though you knew that Cal would not approve."

"Cal had no say in who my friends were," Rose replied, looking at Ruth levelly.

"You became far more than friends," Ruth retorted, looking at the matching wedding bands the couple wore. She looked at Jack. "You could have at least given her a diamond wedding band."

"She didn't want one." Jack looked Ruth right in the eye, refusing to be intimidated.

"Of course she did. She loved the diamond Cal gave her."

"No, I didn't. It was an ugly, gaudy thing, but neither Cal nor you would have listened if I'd said so."

Ruth ignored her daughter. "Did you at least buy her an engagement ring?"

"Yes, I did. A nice sterling silver one."

"It was exactly what I wanted," Rose added. "It suited me perfectly."

"Where is it now?"

Rose showed her mother her right hand, where she had moved the silver ring on her wedding day. Ruth looked at it.

"It is pretty," she admitted grudgingly, leaving both Jack and Rose staring at her as though they couldn't believe that she'd said something complimentary.

They stared at each other, Ruth still looking for something to criticize. Finally, she looked at Jack again.

"How long were you in prison?"

"Mom—" Rose started warningly.

"It's okay," Jack assured her. "It wasn't prison, Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater. It was juvenile hall, and I was there for eight months."

Ruth looked at Rose again. "Could you possibly have chosen worse than an ex-con for a husband?"

Rose gritted her teeth at her mother's rudeness. "Yes. I could have married a current convict," she said, referring to Cal.

"Rose..." Ruth looked as though she was going to berate her daughter, but instead turned to Jack. "You have quite an interesting history. From what I'm told, you wandered around quite a bit after you got out of juvenile hall."

"Yes."

"And did you find that kind of rootless existence appealing?"

Rose glared at her mother, but Jack answered her evenly. "Well, yes, I did. I liked waking up in the morning not knowing who I was going to meet, or where I was going to wind up. I went about life just as my father said that I should, making each day count."

"And now that you're married, have you settled down? Or are you going to cause my daughter grief?"

"I got tired of wandering, of not knowing where my next meal was coming from. I moved to Masline, got a steady job, and went to college."

"I've heard that you're an artist. That hardly seems like steady work."

"I work for an advertising agency in Southland. I get to do what I like best and make a decent living at it."

"And you're capable of providing for my daughter? Rose seems to think she needs to work, when she should be concentrating upon college."

"We support each other, Mom. I like working, and I have no trouble both working and going to college. I worked an internship for Cal last year," she added when Ruth looked as though she were about to make another biting comment.

"That's different. The internship was much easier."

Rose opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at her mother's naïveté. Ruth looked at her in irritation, then turned her criticism back to Jack.

"I don't think you're as stable as Rose believes. Where did you get that scar on your wrist?" she asked, looking pointedly at the faint line on his left wrist where he had slashed himself the previous summer.

Jack just looked at her. "That's none of your business," he responded, moving his watch to cover the scar. Most of the time, he kept it covered, but his watch had slipped from its usual spot, allowing Ruth to see the scar.

Ruth looked at him, a grudging look of respect crossing her face. Few people were willing to stand up to her that way. Only her mother, her stepsister, and Rose had ever spoken so plainly to her. Most people allowed her to walk all over them. She couldn't help but respect someone who refused to bend to her will, even though it annoyed her.

*****

A short time later, all of the guests except Rebecca left. Rose hugged her grandparents and Rebecca, and even said a polite good-bye to her mother. Jack thanked everyone for the dinner, calling them by their first names, even Ruth, who looked a little surprised at her son-in-law's acceptance of her. She and Rose had not yet mended the rift between them, but they were more at ease with each other now, and Rose hoped that they could eventually at least tolerate each other.

Rose and Jack got into the car, heading through the clear desert night for Palm Springs. Jack was driving and Rose sat in the passenger seat beside him, still amazed at the conversation with her mother.

"You know, Jack, I think Mom actually respects you. She might not like you much, but I think that she admires the way you stood up to her."

"She respects you, too, believe it or not."

"I doubt it."

"I think she does. You stand up to her, and you no longer let her walk all over you. She's still angry with you for going against her wishes and thwarting her plans, but she'd have less respect for you if you simply did what she told you to do."

"Children are supposed to honor their parents. That's what she told me for years."

"I don't think honor means the same thing as blind obedience, especially when you're grown and living away from her."

"Try telling her that."

"She probably wouldn't agree," Jack admitted. "But I do think she's developed some respect for you, even if it is hard to see."

"Maybe. You always were good at seeing people for what they are. But my mother...I don't know, Jack. I still haven't forgiven her for selling me to Cal, and I don't know that I can ever really trust her again."

"Maybe not, but it's best for everyone if you're not constantly at war with her."

"I know. Maybe this is a beginning, Jack. Maybe someday, we'll learn to get along again."


	60. A Time of Peace 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty

_Friday, November 28, 2003  
Santa Monica, California_

Jack and Rose walked along the streets of Santa Monica on their way to the pier. They had found a hotel in another part of Los Angeles and checked in for the weekend, and then had battled to traffic to get to Santa Monica. Jack drove, as he knew the area better and had more patience with the bumper-to-bumper traffic than Rose did.

After negotiating the streets of Santa Monica, which, while crowded, where still more open than the freeway, they had finally found a reasonably priced parking meter and left the car behind, continuing to the pier on foot.

They had originally planned to make Olvera Street, in another part of Los Angeles, their first stop, but had found that it had been one of the harder hit places in Los Angeles when the earthquake had struck almost seven months earlier, and most of it was still in ruins and blocked off to traffic. After discovering this, Jack had suggested that they go to Santa Monica instead, a place that he had been fond of when he lived in Los Angeles.

After a leisurely stroll down the tourist-clogged streets, they arrived at the pier itself. They had taken their time getting there, with Rose stopping to look around in several shops along the streets while Jack waited patiently, not nearly so interested in souvenir hunting as she was.

When they reached the pier, they strolled along, taking time to look at the work of various artists and performers. There were a number of sketch artists at the pier, and Rose was curious as to whether Jack had ever done his artwork there.

"Did you ever do sketches here?" she asked him, stopping to admire the work of one artist who sketched celebrities.

"Yeah. This was where I started out when I first came to LA. It was a long bus ride here from the barrio where Fabrizio and I were living, but it was worth it. I didn't make a lot of money, but it was usually enough to at least cover my share of the rent. Luckily, the rent in our particular neighborhood was cheap. There were a lot of abandoned buildings, and the rent had to be cheap to get anyone to actually pay it. There were a lot of squatters in the abandoned buildings, too, so the landlords took what they could get. The apartments were filthy and full of cockroaches, not to mention being favorite hang-outs for drug addicts and prostitutes, but it was shelter."

"Only you could be so optimistic about living in such a place."

Jack shrugged. "Most of the people there weren't so bad. They were poor, but being poor doesn't make a person bad. People do what they have to, to survive, and if it means living in a rundown barrio neighborhood...well, that's just the way things are, sometimes."

"It's a pity they have to be that way."

"Yes, but I don't know what can be done about it. Some people actually prefer living that way."

"Then that's their choice, but no one should have to live in such an environment if they don't want to."

"Well, maybe you'll find a solution," Jack told her. Changing the subject, he said, "In spite of the fact that I didn't make much money, I enjoyed what I did. I drew portraits of people for five dollars apiece. I did some work in other parts of the city, too."

Rose smiled. "It's good that you liked what you did. Jobs that you don't like are just work. Everything else is worthwhile."

"It's worthwhile to make enough money to eat, too."

Rose had to admit that he was right. "That's the only reason I can think of for taking a boring job. Because you need it."

They had reached the end of the pier. Jack stopped, leaning against the railing, while Rose came up and leaned against him.

"I always liked the ocean," she told him, gazing out at the choppy gray water. "It's so...so endless. Like it could go on forever, and you'll never see everything in it."

"I used to sketch people swimming here, too," Jack replied. "Especially families. So many people enjoy the beach so much..."

His expression was far away, and Rose knew that he was thinking of his own family, lost in the fire so many years before.

"Believe it or not, I've never been here before," she told him. "I used to visit my grandparents in Newport Beach, and Oceanside was the closest beach to Masline, but I've never been to Santa Monica before. It was too much of a drive, and Mom hates the traffic."

"So do you."

Rose laughed. "Yeah. I guess Mom and I have more in common than we think."

Jack straightened, looking at his watch. "Want to go get lunch?"

"Sure." Rose took one last look at the water before walking beside Jack toward the restaurants on the pier.

"What do you want to eat?" he asked her, looking at the collection of food stands and restaurants. Some had fallen in during the earthquake, or been wiped out by the waves following it, but others had quickly taken their place.

Rose looked at the fast food restaurants. "I always liked Del Taco. How about you?"

"Del Taco works."

They joined the line of people waiting to buy food, watching the things going on around them as they waited. Several families with small children tried to calm their hungry, cranky offspring, while a number of teenagers sat at the tables or stood around eating, eyeing the people around them. A seagull swooped down and snatched an abandoned hamburger bun from a table, disturbing the pigeons that had been pecking at it.

Once they had bought their lunches, Jack and Rose sat a small table near to where a man was attempting to juggle several empty glasses. Rose jumped, startled, as one of the glasses dropped to the ground and shattered. Jack looked at the man with amusement.

"I guess he's still learning to juggle," he commented, watching people scatter out of the way of the broken glass.

They were interrupted when a slightly overweight woman with badly dyed and permed hair came up to the table.

"Hello, Jack," she purred, looking him over.

Jack turned, startled. "Beatriz!" he exclaimed, coming face-to-face with his old girlfriend for the first time in a year and half.

"I wondered when you were coming back to Los Angeles."

"I'm not here to stay. Rose and I are here on our honeymoon."

"Rose?" Beatriz only then noticed the woman sitting at the table with Jack. "You're married?"

"Yes. We were married in October."

"And you're only now getting to your honeymoon? I would've thought you'd do better than that." She sat down in an extra chair.

"Beatriz, what are you doing here?" Jack asked, not particularly happy to see her. They hadn't parted on the best of terms.

"I saw you and decided to say hello."

"Hello. What do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to your old girlfriend?"

"Knowing you, yes. What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see you again."

"Horseshit. You only hope that I'll give you money or something."

"Do you really think that badly of me?"

"Yes."

"What did I ever do to you?"

"Let me think...you slept around, ran up long-distance phone bills and refused to pay them, smoked pot when you knew cops were around, threw an empty wine bottle at Fabrizio's girlfriend...do I need to go on?"

"Speaking of Fabrizio, how is he?"

"He died in the earthquake."

"That must have upset his fiancée. Or maybe not. She was a cold person, as I recall."

"Actually, they were married before the earthquake. She's expecting a baby in January."

"His?"

"Who else's?"

"Oh, I don't know. She was around you and her cousin enough—"

"Beatriz, shut up! You have a really filthy mouth!"

"Oh, come on, Jack. You used to like my dirty words."

"I learned quickly enough. Why don't you go find someone else to bother?"

"I want to see you."

"Well, I don't want to see you. If you need money, go stand on a street corner. It always worked before."

"I never stood on a street corner in my life."

"Ha. That was where I first met you."

"But you didn't speak to me until you saw me doing exotic dancing."

"That's slightly more respectable than being a hooker."

Beatriz shrugged. "A girl has to make a living."

"That's the kind of living you enjoy."

Rose watched the exchange with her mouth hanging open. So, this was Beatriz, who Helga had wanted to slap silly a few times. Having seen her, Rose wanted to do the same.

Jack was trying to get rid of her, but Beatriz wasn't giving up. When she tugged at her tight, low-cut top, exposing more of her cleavage, Rose had had enough.

"Get lost, skank!" she told her, glaring threatening at her.

"What?"

"I said, get lost."

"Who the hell are you to tell me anything?"

"I'm Jack's wife, that's who. Now, leave."

"Make me."

"Do you dare me?"

Beatriz stood, making a move toward Rose, but the look in Rose's eyes stopped her. Rose was spoiling for a fight. She glanced back at Jack, hoping that he would disagree with his wife.

"Leave, Beatriz. Now. Or I'll call the cops," he told her.

"I second that," Rose added. "Get lost, whore."

"Bitch!" Beatriz stomped off, turning around once to call to Jack. "Good luck, loser. I bet she'll never be half the woman I am."

Jack stared at Rose for a moment, surprised by her outburst. "Meow."

"What do you expect?" Rose asked him. "She was making a play for my husband. She was your girlfriend? What did you ever see in her?"

"Uh...I'm not sure you want to know the answer to that."

Rose fixed him with a withering glare. "Oh, I think I do."

"Well...I'll tell you the truth. She was my girlfriend, back when I lived in LA. She was always short of money, possibly because she spent a good portion of what she did have on drugs. I let her move in with me within a week. Fabrizio didn't like her, but he tolerated her as long as I did. Beatriz and I fought a lot, though, and she managed to make enemies of nearly everyone she met. Yes, she was my girlfriend, and she did live with me, and yes, I did sleep with her."

"And I'll bet that was what you saw in her."

He sighed. "Yeah, that was about it. The rest of the time, we fought bitterly."

"I can see why Helga wanted to slap her silly."

"She did?" Jack was surprised. "She never told me that."

"She was probably too polite."

"Probably. At any rate, I hadn't seen her in a year and a half, and I'd rather not see her again. Just my luck that she'd show up today. But then, she always did like to hang around here, hoping for customers or people dumb enough to give her money. I guess I should have thought that she might be here."

"She's a slut."

"Yes, she is. And she was then, too. We had an on-again, off-again relationship. More off than on. It was a relief when I finally split up with her for good. She doesn't really want me back. She just hopes I'll give her money."

"And will you?"

"No. If she was in genuine need, I might, but I know full well that she'll just go buy booze or drugs, and I am not financing her habit."

"She has some problems, I'll agree." Rose looked at the pile of trash left from her lunch. "I think her worst one is she's a bitch."

"I think she was probably high, too. Meth, unless I miss my guess. She's probably trying to lose weight again."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "You did know her well." Tossing her napkin on top of the pile of trash, she went on, "If I'm only half the woman she is, I'm grateful. Who wants to be like her? She'll probably wind up dead in some alley."

"You're twice the woman she could ever hope to be, and don't you forget it." Jack laughed at Rose's expression. "Come on. Let's get out of here before she comes back."

"Good idea. Where should we go next?"

"How about we just go down to the beach? Beatriz walked the opposite direction, so I don't think she'll show up there."

"Let's go." Rose scooped up her trash and dropped it in a nearby trash can. Several pigeons scattered as they walked away from their table.

They made their way down to the sand, which was surprisingly warm for such an overcast day. Taking off their shoes, they walked along in companionable silence for a while, watching as one group of people played volleyball, and laughing at the sight of two little girls burying their father in buckets of sand.

"Want to go in the water?" Jack asked after a few minutes. A few people were in the water, but not many, indicating how cold it was.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the surf.

"Jack, no!" Rose tried to pull away. "I couldn't possibly, Jack!"

"Sure you can." He tossed his shoes aside, then snatched hers and added them to the pile. "Come on!"

Rose shrieked as the cold water hit her feet. "It's cold!"

"I know! That's the fun of it!"

"You're insane!" A large wave hit Rose, knocking her over. She sat up, sputtering. "I'm going to get you for that!"

Before Jack could get out of her way, Rose tackled him, knocking him into the water.

"Rose!"

Rose laughed, scrambling to her feet. "Still like the cold?"

"Yes." Jack suddenly lunged for her, pulling her into the water with him. "Is it really that bad?"

Rose spit out a mouthful of saltwater. "Yes!" Another wave came in, covering them with water for a moment.

Rose giggled uncontrollably when she got a look at Jack. He looked at her strangely, until finally she decided to enlighten him.

"You have seaweed in your hair," she told him, still laughing.

He quickly tugged the strand of seaweed from where it had wrapped itself around his head. Then he looked at her and started laughing himself.

"Do you know where the other end of this strand of seaweed is?"

"No. Where?"

"Down your shirt."

Rose looked, quickly pulling the rest of the seaweed from her clothes. "Ugh."

They stood up, trailing the seaweed behind them, and waded farther out. The November sea was rough, so they didn't go out too far for fear of being swept out.

"This is good surfing weather," Jack told her, looking at the size of the waves.

"Too bad we don't have surfboards."

"There might be someplace around where we can rent them."

Rose thought about it. "No, thanks. I don't want to stay in the water that long."

"It is cold," Jack agreed. "Let's go back to the beach."

Hand in hand, they headed back toward the beach until a large wave knocked them both over, picking them up and depositing them in a heap on the sand.

Jack sat up, spitting out a mouthful of sand. "Gross."

"Yeah," Rose agreed, wiping the saltwater from her eyes. "I think I have sand in my underwear."

Jack laughed, prompting Rose to fling a handful of wet sand at him. They walked back to where they'd left their shoes and picked them up, ignoring the people who were staring at them.

"I guess we must look pretty weird," Rose commented, "going swimming fully clothed."

"It was fun."

"Yeah, but now I'm really getting cold."

They stopped at the sidewalk and put their shoes back on, brushing the sand from their feet.

"Let's go back to the motel and put some dry clothes on," Jack suggested, "and then drive up the coast a ways. I know of a place where you can rent horses and ride them on the beach, if it's still there. Have you ever ridden a horse?"

"A few times. When I was a little girl, growing up in San Bernardino, we used to go on vacations up to Big Bear, and there was a place where you could rent horses and ride them with a guide. I liked riding, even if it did make Mom nervous." Rose laughed. "She always let Dad take me riding on these things."

"How long has it been since you've ridden a horse?"

"Oh, about ten years."

"I used to ride horses when I was a kid in Chippewa Falls. Uncle William had horses."

"I thought you didn't like him."

"He was more tolerable back then, especially when my cousins and I would sneak away from him."

"What would he do if you showed up now?"

Jack thought about it. "Probably pull out his shotgun, which he has illegally, but which he thinks he needs for protection."

"Has he ever had to use it?"

"Not that I know of. He's kind of paranoid."

"Sounds like it." They headed back down toward where they'd left the car. Rose rubbed her arms. "Let's hurry and get back. I'm freezing."

*****

After returning to the hotel and changing their clothes, they headed back out. It was a long drive up the coast to the place Jack remembered, but Rose enjoyed the drive, looking out at the passing scenery.

"It's pretty here," she commented.

"Especially when you get away from the city," Jack agreed, looking out at the ocean as they made their way up Highway 1.

"How far is it to this stable you mentioned?" Rose asked, watching as the traffic thinned out as they got away from LA.

"About another twenty miles or so."

"You did get around."

"I'm good at that."

They finally reached the place Jack remembered. In spite of the earthquake and ensuing tsunami, the stable was still there, though a bit the worse for wear. It was still in business, though, so Jack rented a horse for the two of them and they took off down the beach.

They rode together most of the time, first going slowly along the beach, then going faster as they remembered how to ride. Rose sat in front of Jack, a little leery of riding a horse after so many years.

She was surprised when Jack directed the horse toward the water. "Jack, what are you doing?"

"Riding in the surf. We couldn't really go surfing, so we'll ride a horse in the surf."

Rose was a bit nervous at first, hoping the horse didn't object to the cold water and buck them off, but her fears were assuaged when Jack urged the animal into a gallop, splashing along the edge of the water.

The water flew up and splashed them, but neither minded. Laughing with delight, they rode up and down the waterline for the better part of an hour, until Jack guided the horse back up the beach a ways and dismounted.

"Stay there," he told Rose, gesturing for her to hand him her purse.

She did, puzzled by what he was doing. Jack pulled her camera out and walked back a short distance.

"Smile!" he called, as she sat atop the horse's back, her hands lightly holding the reins.

He snapped several pictures before walking back to her and taking the reins. Rose balanced in the saddle, no longer nervous about riding, as he led the horse back to the stable.

*****

"I had fun today," Rose told Jack as they headed back down the highway toward Los Angeles. "Even going into the water."

"Glad you liked it," he told her. "Want to go swimming again?"

"No, no, no. That's okay. Once was enough. Maybe we can try swimming again in the summer."

"We'll be here for another couple of days. Is there any place in particular you'd like to see?"

Rose answered without hesitation. "Hollywood. I've always wanted to see that."

"It's kind of rundown."

"Even better."

Jack laughed. "I like your sense of adventure. Any place else?"

"I don't really know what's around here. What would you like to do?"

"I'd like to visit the Getty Center. They have a lot of art there."

"Mari talked about that place once. She said they have botanical gardens."

"That, too."

"So, Hollywood and the Getty Center."

"That sounds like a plan. Of course, we need to spend some time alone, too."

Rose smiled at him, giving him a kiss as they stopped at a traffic light. "Of course."


	61. A Time of Peace 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-One

_Thursday, December 18, 2003_

Rose sat up in bed, pushing the covers off. It was the third time she had awakened during the night, her restlessness brought on by a very sore throat. It hadn't been so bad the evening before, but now it was so sore that it hurt to swallow.

Shivering, she pulled the blankets back up over herself, then immediately tossed them off again, feeling overheated. Irritably, she glared at Jack, who was sleeping peacefully beside her. It didn't seem right that he was so peaceful while she was so miserable!

Scowling, she lay back against her pillow, pulling the blankets back up, then removing them one by one, trying to find a comfortable amount of covers. Tugging at them, she finally succeeded in finding some comfort, only to have a sleepy Jack reach over and take back the covers she had pulled off of him. Annoyed, she yanked them off of him again, waking him up.

He sat up, pulling the blankets back over himself. "Rose, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get comfortable, and you keep taking the stupid blankets!" Her voice was hoarse.

"Me? You're the one who pulled them off of me."

"I was trying to get comfortable."

"You said that. Rose, it's two AM. Why don't you just go back to sleep?"

"I can't. My throat hurts."

"Then go put some of that spray on it. We have to get up in a few hours."

"Thanks for the sympathy." Rose's voice was sarcastic.

"Look, Rose. I'm sorry your throat hurts. Go put some of that pain-killing spray on it and go to sleep before you wake up the whole household."

Rose glowered at him as he turned over and pulled the blankets up to his chin, falling back asleep almost immediately. Finally, she sighed, climbing out of bed and grabbing the flashlight from the top of the bookcase.

Slipping into the bathroom, Rose looked at herself in the mirror, appalled at what she saw. No wonder she felt miserable! Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled from fever. A hand to her jaw revealed that her glands were swollen. Switching on the flashlight, Rose peered at her throat in the mirror to see if it was inflamed, as her mother had done for her when she was a little girl and had a sore throat.

The inside of her throat was red and painful. Tiredly, she switched off the flashlight and dug through the medicine cabinet for the thermometer. Sticking it under her tongue, she waited a minute until it beeped, then looked to see what her temperature was.

It was a hundred and three degrees, the reason why the air felt extraordinarily cold and the space under the blankets extraordinarily warm. Washing off the thermometer, Rose put it back in the medicine cabinet and searched for the aspirin and the pain-killing spray for her throat, wishing that she could remember where she'd put them.

When she had finally found them and medicated herself to the point that she felt marginally better, she left the bathroom and crawled back into bed beside Jack, pulling up about half the covers before she lay down. Jack stirred for a moment, then went back to sleep as Rose lay down, piling the unwanted blankets over him.

*****

"How are you feeling this morning?" Jack asked Rose as they dressed for work.

Rose shrugged. "Tired, but I put some of that spray on my throat, so it feels a little better." She buttoned up her blouse, then looked at him. "Sorry I was such a grouch last night."

"It's okay. You didn't feel well. Your voice is still hoarse."

"My throat is really red, too."

"How do you know?"

"I took a flashlight and looked in the mirror."

"Let me see."

"Jack...I really don't think you want to see the inside of my throat. It's pretty disgusting."

"Sure I do." He grabbed the flashlight from where she had left it on the dresser. "Open up."

Rose gave him a tolerant look and opened her mouth, letting him look down her throat. "Satisfied, Dr. Dawson?"

"That's gross."

"I told you so."

"Maybe you should stay home from work until you feel better."

"I'll be fine. It's just a sore throat."

"You're feverish, too."

"I took some aspirin when I got up this morning. It'll go down soon."

"Do you really want to spread whatever it is around at work?"

"I think I picked it up at work. A lot of clients and their kids have been like this."

"All the more reason to stay home, so you don't spread it farther."

Rose put a hand on his arm. "Jack, I'll be fine. Really. Besides, they need me there. It's raining, and some of the clients get really strange when it's raining, so they have more to handle. They need all the help they can get."

"See if someone else can answer the phone for you. You sound like you're going to lose your voice."

Rose sighed and shook her head. "All right. If I really start feeling miserable, I'll go home. I promise."

"Good." He moved toward her, then changed his mind. "I'm not going to kiss you. I don't want to catch whatever it is you have."

"It's okay if you take it. I don't want it."

"Neither do I. Take it easy, okay? Drink lots of water and eat an orange at lunch. That was what my mother always told me," he elaborated at her questioning look.

"Yes, doctor," Rose teased him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Come on. We'd better finish getting ready for work."

*****

Rose worked for about half the day. Despite repeatedly spraying her throat, taking aspirin, and drinking plenty of water as Jack had advised, her throat continued to hurt and she remained feverish. By noon, she could barely speak out loud, and got one of the other office assistants to take her place at the front desk while she went to see her supervisor.

"Maggie?" Rose whispered, trying to speak aloud but finding that she couldn't. Maggie gestured to her to come inside her office.

Rose came close so that she could be heard. "I think I've caught something. I've got laryngitis."

"So I hear. Maybe you should go home for the rest for the day."

"I'm okay. Maybe you could just have me work in the chart room the rest of the day?"

"I think you need to go home. Better yet, I think you need to stop and see your doctor before you go home. There's strep throat going around. A number of the clients, and even more of the clients' kids, have had it. If you have strep throat, you need to get it treated, or it could turn into scarlet fever."

"What's scarlet fever?"

"It's a complication of strep, which can sometimes damage your joints and heart valves."

"I can go to urgent care after work. That stays open late."

"Rose, go home. Go to the doctor first. I know you're not faking it. You're much too reliable for that. Besides, you look sick and you sound like it. Go home before you get any worse and before you spread it around."

Rose tried to look reluctant, but was glad to leave. She really didn't feel well.

"Okay, Maggie. I'll call if I can't come in tomorrow."

"Come back when you're feeling better. Just let me know each day that you won't be in."

"Sure." Rose's voice was hardly a whisper. "Thanks, Maggie."

*****

Rose drove to Southland as soon as she left work. Since she was unable to get an appointment with her regular doctor on such short notice, she went to urgent care instead, grateful that she now had health insurance through her job.

It was a forty-five minute wait. Not only was strep throat making the rounds, but so was the flu, as happened every winter. Rose sipped water and watched the rain pour outside the window while she waited.

At 1:30, she was finally able to see a doctor. After a cursory examination and a rapid-strep test, the doctor confirmed that she was indeed down with strep throat, gave her a prescription for amoxicillin, and told her to stay home from work for at least another day.

It was another twenty-minute wait in the pharmacy for her prescription, and by the time she able to leave and head for home, Rose was feeling exhausted and miserable. Fortunately, the Thursday afternoon traffic was sparse and it was a quick drive home.

As soon as she reached home, she crawled into bed and fell asleep.

*****

"Rose, wake up."

Rose opened her eyes blearily, looking to see who was disturbing her rest. "Jack, you're home. What time is it?" she croaked, her voice still not working.

"It's about 5:45. When did you get home?"

Rose tried to remember. "About 3:30, I think. My boss told me to leave at noon, and then I went to the doctor and had to wait a long time."

"What's wrong?"

"Strep throat, the same thing as all those clients and their kids have had. I got some antibiotics, so I should be better soon." She sat up, yawning, and pushed the blankets off. "I need to make dinner."

"Uh...why don't you get some more rest? I'll make dinner for you."

"It's my turn."

"You're tired. Go back to sleep. I'll bring you some dinner. It may be a couple of hours, though."

"Why? Do you have something special to cook?"

"Sort of. It'll make you feel better."

"Uh-huh. Thanks, Jack. Before you do that, could you bring me some water?"

"Sure." He brought her a glass of water. Gratefully, Rose drank it down, taking an antibiotic capsule and two aspirin with it.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, refilling the glass with water and setting it on the bookcase beside her.

"Lousy. I shouldn't have gone to work. The doctor told me not to go to work tomorrow, either."

"Good advice. Who's your doctor?"

"I don't know who my doctor today was. She had such a heavy accent that I could barely understand her. I had to go to urgent care, because my doctor had no appointments available. Everyone's getting sick. It's flu season," she mumbled, her face half-buried in her pillow.

"And strep season," Jack told her, kissing her on the cheek. "You rest. I'll take care of dinner."

*****

Two hours later, Jack came back into the room, carrying a tray. Rose sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"What did you cook?" she wanted to know, her nose twitching at the scent of food.

"Chicken soup, fresh-baked bread, and some hot tea for you."

"Is that why it took so long to make dinner?"

"It didn't take as long as I'd thought. You already had a chicken defrosted on the counter."

"This is homemade? Not the canned stuff?"

"I made it myself. That canned soup is awful."

"What about the bread?" It obviously wasn't store-bought.

"I made that, too."

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" Rose took a sip of tea. He had added honey and lemon to it, so it soothed her sore throat.

"Whenever anyone was sick when I was a kid, Mom would make this soup. One day, when she had a bad cold, she taught me to make it myself. The bread is something that Dad liked to make. He would bake it in a Dutch oven. Mom once said that her mother was proud of her for choosing a husband who could cook."

Rose laughed, then clutched at her sore throat in misery. Jack set the tray in her lap as she took another sip of tea.

"You're so nice," she croaked, putting a spoonful of soup in her mouth.

"I know."

She glared at him. "You're not supposed to agree with me."

"I don't see why not. I made dinner, didn't I?"

Rose just grumbled to herself for a moment before complimenting him on the food. "This is good. You'll have to teach those recipes to me when I'm better."

"Sure. Do you need some more water?"

"Yes. Could you put some ice in it? Ice helps my throat."

"It helps your fever, too."

"Yeah. I just don't feel well."

"You'll feel better soon. Just eat your dinner and relax. Do you want me to turn on the television?"

"Sure. Thank you, Jack."

"I'll come and get your tray in a bit, okay?"

"Okay." Rose slurped some of the hot broth. "Then I think I'll go back to sleep."

She leaned forward, her hair hanging in her face. Jack brought a rubber band and pulled her hair back for her.

"Thanks, Jack. I love you." She waved him off. "Go eat dinner. I don't want you catching this."

"I love you, too, Rose. I hope you feel better soon."

"Me, too."


	62. A Time of Peace 7

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Two

_December 31, 2003_

On New Year's Eve, all four members of the household, plus Sophie, met together at the house. Much to the surprise of the others, Tommy and Sophie had decided to go out together for New Year's Eve. They were going to San Diego for the evening, while the other three members of the group would remain at home.

Rose couldn't resist teasing Sophie, who had been giving Tommy a merry chase. He had been trying to get a date with her for months, since October, and she had been avoiding the issue the whole time. For New Year's Eve, she had finally decided to give him a chance.

"I knew he'd win you over eventually," Rose teased Sophie as they sat in the kitchen waiting for Tommy. Neither Rose, Helga, nor Sophie could get over the fact that it was Sophie who had to wait for her date this time. She was notorious for being half an hour late for any date she went on, but tonight she was the one on time.

Sophie shrugged. "It's only New Year's Eve."

"Only New Year's Eve! This is one of the most important date nights of the year. You know what they say—if you end up alone on New Year's Eve, you'll have bad luck dating for the next year."

"Well, I'm not alone, now am I? I don't see you going out."

"I don't need a date. I'm married. We'll keep Helga company, and then have our own celebration."

"I really wanted to hear that," Helga told her, grimacing.

"Well, you're not going out."

"I don't think my little boy needs to have me go out and party all night." Helga rested her hands on her distended middle. At eight and a half months pregnant, she looked ready to burst. "Besides, I'm exempt. I'm a recent widow."

"Oh, this is all silly!" Sophie exclaimed, glaring at her two friends. "Tommy and I are just friends. We're just going to go down to San Diego and have fun."

"Whatever you say," Helga told her. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Sophie looked at Helga's swollen stomach. "Whatever you say." She smirked.

Jack came in the front door, carrying the pizza he'd picked up for the three of them staying at home, just as Tommy came from his room. Rose hurried to take the pizza, while Sophie jumped up and hurried over to Tommy, tugging on his arm and urging him to leave before the others could make fun of them anymore.

Helga couldn't resist one last parting shot. "Tommy—is that aftershave I smell? You never use aftershave."

"Shut up, Helga. I don't see how you can smell anything over the scent of that pizza."

"Don't you know? Pregnant women have an extraordinarily good sense of smell."

"Let's get out of here," Tommy told Sophie, ignoring his grinning cousin.

"_Adios_," Jack told them. "Stay out of trouble."

"_You_ stay out of trouble," Tommy retorted, holding the door for Sophie.

"I don't have to stay out of trouble," Jack called after them. "I'm married."

"Oh, yes you do, buster," Rose told him, coming up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him. "The types of trouble you're allowed to get into are severely limited."

"Ahem," Helga called from the table. "Why don't we have some dinner before you two forget? I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

"Yeah, we're coming," Jack grumbled, giving Helga a look of mock annoyance. "Come on, Mrs. Dawson. Have a seat. I left off the jalapenos and anchovies just for you."

"You're sweet." Rose stopped at the CD player on the counter, putting in one of her folk music CDs.

"Do we have to listen to that?" Helga asked her.

"You know you like folk music," Rose told her, hitting the play button. "Besides, wouldn't you rather have your baby listen to this instead of some of that pop music you like?"

"Not really. There's nothing wrong with pop music. It won't give him any bad ideas."

"Have you decided on a name for him yet?" Jack asked, opening the pizza box.

"Yes."

"What is it?" Rose wanted to know.

"I'll let you know after he's born. For now, he's just the baby."

"When is he due?"

"January nineteenth."

"Less than a month to go, then."

"If he's on time. I've seen babies be as much as a month late."

"A month? That must be hard on the mother."

"It is. Usually, if a baby is very late, the obstetrician will induce labor, but some women who haven't had any medical care come into the emergency room, wondering what could be wrong, that the baby is so late."

"Well, I think you'll be fine. You've worked in the maternity ward, haven't you?"

"Yes, and everything is progressing normally. I know what to expect, though sometimes unexpected things do happen."

As Helga launched into a description of some of the unusual things she had seen at births, Jack was trying to cover his ears and eat at the same time. Finally, Rose noticed.

"I think we're embarrassing him," Rose told Helga, glancing at Jack.

"I really wanted to hear about childbirth at dinner," Jack commented, hoping the conversation was over.

"I was right," Rose told Helga.

"Rose!" Jack looked at her in annoyance.

"We'll shut up now," Rose assured him, patting his hand. "Besides, wasn't this better than listening to folk music?"

"Actually, some of the folk music isn't too bad, unlike medical horror stories." He scowled at Helga.

"You see?" Rose said. "I knew you'd like my music."

"Well...some of it's okay," Helga grudgingly conceded, then added, "but I still prefer Britney Spears to Peter, Paul, and Mary."

"Your choice," Rose told her, reaching for another slice of pizza. "What say we go watch those DVDs we rented?"

After the kitchen was cleaned up, they gathered in the living room. Helga settled down on the couch, finding it more comfortable than the chairs, while Rose and Jack argued over which movie to watch first.

"_Unbreakable_!"

"_Chicago_!"

"We should watch the shorter one first," Jack argued.

"There's not that much difference. Besides, if we watch the longer one first, we'll be sure of finishing it."

"We have over four hours," Helga pointed out from the couch. "We'll have plenty of time to watch both of them. I say we watch _Unbreakable_ first. Rose and I have both seen _Chicago_."

"Besides," Jack added, "_Chicago_ looks like a chick flick. All that singing..."

"Trust me. You'll like it," Rose told him, then conceded to the others. "All right. We'll watch _Unbreakable_ first."

"You'll like it," Jack told her. "It's about a guy who's obsessed with proving superheroes are real."

"Sounds weird."

"Just give it a chance, okay?"

When the movie was over, Rose had to admit that she'd enjoyed the movie. "That guy was a real psycho," she remarked, reaching for other DVD. "Killing all those people to prove his crazy theory."

"Which turned out to not be so crazy after all," Helga added from where she was laying on the couch.

"He was still psycho, though. And I thought I knew some nasty people. I'm glad that one's not real."

It was almost midnight when the second movie ended. Rose put the DVD back in its box, while Jack surfed through the channels, looking for a televised New Year's Eve celebration. She sat back down beside him, then looked at Helga, who was being far more quiet than usual.

Helga was stretched across the couch, sound asleep. Her protruding belly moved up and down as she breathed, her head turned to the side and her blonde hair cascading over the side of the couch. Rose smiled, then walked quietly over to wake her, knowing that Helga would not want to miss midnight.

"Helga, wake up."

"Humph."

"It's almost midnight."

"Leave me alone, Fabri."

Rose couldn't help giggling. Helga awoke with a start, staring at her.

"What's going on?"

"It's almost midnight."

"It is?" She struggled to sit up. "Give me a hand here."

Rose helped her to her feet.

"How much time do we have?"

"About ten minutes."

"I'll go get that sparkling cider I bought." She waddled out of the living room, closing the kitchen door behind her.

By the time she returned, it was two minutes to midnight. The three of them sat in front of the television, waiting for the countdown.

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one...Happy New Year!"

Rose threw her arms around Jack and kissed him, while Helga struggled to get the bottle open. When she finally succeeded, she poured cider into three glasses and handed them around.

"This doesn't have alcohol in it, does it?" Jack asked, looking at his glass suspiciously.

Helga gave an aggravated sigh. "No, of course not. Do you really think I'm going to give the baby alcohol?" She shook her head. "What is it with you and alcohol, anyway? You wouldn't drink any wine at Christmas, and you don't drink beer with Tommy anymore, either."

He shrugged. "I've just lost my taste for it, is all."

"Uh-huh. Well, here's to the new year, with a farewell to the old year. Let's hope this year is better."

"I second that." Jack raised his glass.

"Me, too," Rose added, clinking her glass against the others. Smiling, she launched into _Auld Lang Syne_. The others soon joined her.

_Shall auld acquaintance be forgot?  
And never brought to mind?  
Shall auld acquaintance be forgot?  
And the days of auld lang syne?_

"A new year," Rose said, taking a sip from her glass, remembering all the trials of the year now past. The earthquake, Cal, Jack's illness, the problems with her mother...it had been a hard year.

"It wasn't all bad," Jack remarked.

Rose and Helga turned to stare at him. He'd had the worst time of any of them.

He reached for Rose's hand. "Rose and I were married, and you and Fabrizio were married. Those were good times."

Rose smiled, nodding in agreement, remembering their wedding day. It had been one of the happiest days of her life, in spite of her nervousness. Helga smiled, too, but there was sadness in her eyes. She and Fabrizio had only been married two weeks when he was killed in the earthquake, leaving her to carry and raise their son alone. She still missed him, but she wouldn't have traded those two weeks together for anything.

"What do you suppose Tommy and Sophie are up to?" Rose wondered, putting an arm around Jack.

"I'm sure I'm don't want to know," Helga responded wryly.

"You are dirty-minded," Jack told her, shaking his head.

"Yeah, that I am," Helga replied, patting her swollen middle. "But I'm no worse than anyone else." She struggled to her feet. "Good night, you two. Enjoy your celebration." She smirked, making her way down the hall.

"Good night, Helga!" Rose called, waving her off before she could make another smart remark. "Isn't it just our luck?" she asked Jack, as he turned off the television. "We have a couple of smart-mouthed roommates."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be the same without them." He kissed her. "Come on. Let's go find some place private for our celebration."

*****

Jack and Rose quietly made their way down the hall to their room. Jack closed and locked the door behind them, then took Rose into his arms and kissed her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, pulling her close.

For the past couple of weeks, ever since she came down with strep throat, Rose had wanted to do nothing but sleep at the end of the day. It had been a particularly stubborn case of strep, and she had only started feeling better the past few days.

"Better. Much better. I could stay up all night," she told him. Extra antibiotics had been required to finally cure the disease, but she was recovered now.

She kissed him, then pulled away. "Let me go change into something more comfortable," she suggested, going to the dresser and removing an item of clothing. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

Rose stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She unfolded the garment she had brought with her—a green satin and lace nightgown Jack had given her for Christmas. It was long and low-cut, with spaghetti straps and a long slit up one side so she could walk. It was accompanied by a green satin shawl that wrapped around her shoulders to preserve her modesty.

Slipping it on, she smiled, remembering the Christmas celebration. Jack had insisted that they stuff stockings for each other. Rose had objected at first, thinking they were too old, since she hadn't had a stocking stuffed for her since she was ten years old. Jack had told her that his parents had exchanged stockings, and filled one for him, all the years he was growing up. Surprised, Rose had finally agreed to his idea, so he had bought two small Christmas stockings—one red and one green.

Rose had laughed at his childlike enthusiasm, but she had been touched at the care with which he filled her stocking, giving her a small framed drawing that he had made, an abalone shell pendant, some sample size containers of lotion, bath powder, and shampoo, a book by one of her favorite authors, and a small box of candy. She had taken equal care in selecting gifts for him—art supplies, a new watch to replace his old one that had finally worn out, aftershave, a humorous book about Prozac, and two bags of Craisins, which he liked to munch on while working on his art. In spite of her initial misgivings about such an activity, they had enjoyed exchanging stockings on Christmas morning before the others were up. Rose had felt a little childlike herself as she had dug through her Christmas stocking, eager to see what gifts Jack had given her.

There had also been a Christmas tree set up in the living room that all four of them had chipped in to buy. Jack had painted designs on several types of purchased ornaments the previous year, and there were also lights and tinsel. Rose hadn't contributed much, so she had purchased a box of multi-colored candy canes and added them to the decor.

At mid-morning, they had sat in the living room together and exchanged gifts that they had bought for each other. Jack's gift to Rose had been the satin nightgown. She had blushed when she unwrapped it, and had blushed even more when Tommy had whistled and made a remark about Jack "getting lucky." Jack had elbowed him hard in the stomach, and Helga had slapped him on the back of the head and reprimanded him for being rude, but Tommy had still grinned at them, even when Jack had sourly remarked that sometimes it was hard to believe that Tommy was the oldest one of them.

Rose smoothed the elegant nightgown and smiled at herself in the mirror. She still hadn't been feeling well that night—but tonight was another matter. She felt better than she had in a couple of weeks.

Adding a touch of mascara and a bit of lipstick, she examined her reflection in the mirror, her smile fading as she recalled wearing a similar garment for Cal. That garment, left behind when she left home, had been blue, and not nearly so low-cut, but Cal had taken one look at her when he saw her wearing it and slapped her, accusing her of wearing it for other men. Rose had had no idea what he was talking about and had said as much, but he had grabbed her by the shoulders and shaken her until her teeth rattled.

Upset and furious, Rose had stalked out of his apartment and into the darkened streets of Masline, intent on walking home, but he had finally gone after her and apologized, saying that he only got so angry because he didn't want other men looking at her. She had forgiven him, and the incident had been forgotten—until the next time it had happened.

Rose shook herself, trying to put the memory out of her mind. She doubted that Jack would react in the same way, especially since he had given her the nightgown and wanted to see her in it. But then, Jack had also never gone to the depths of suspicion that Cal had. They trusted each other implicitly, something that she and Cal had never been able to do.

Sighing, Rose began to brush out her hair, remembering another incident with Cal the previous New Year's Eve. There had been a party at Cal's apartment, with plenty of champagne available. Rose had known that she wasn't supposed to be drinking, but the champagne had been good and no one had objected to what she was doing.

By midnight, she had had way too much to drink and had fallen asleep in Cal's bed. About an hour later, he had gotten into bed with her and awakened her, refusing to leave her alone until she agreed to sex. Rose had refused at first, then had finally given in, wanting him to leave her alone. Exhausted and still intoxicated, she had fallen asleep in the middle of it. Furious, he had slapped her awake.

Rose had never quite forgiven him for that night. Resentful of the way he had treated her, she had spurned his advances over the months that followed. He hadn't touched her again until the morning he had raped her.

Setting the brush down, Rose pushed the memory to the back of her mind. There was no use dwelling on it. It was over and best forgotten. Jack wasn't going to hit her or force her against her will, and she wasn't drunk or sleepy tonight. The hangover she had gotten from the champagne had been enough to warn her off of alcohol, so she hadn't drunk any alcoholic beverages since.

Wrapping the shawl around her shoulders, Rose gave herself one last glance in the mirror and sauntered out of the bathroom. Jack was stretched out on the bed, waiting for her. He looked at her in appreciation.

"You look good," he told her, sitting up and pulling back the covers. Slipping beneath them, he held them open for her.

Rose smiled and tossed the shawl onto her bookcase, climbing into bed beside him. "Do I?" she asked, the low-cut top of the nightgown slipping down farther as she settled down beside him.

"Yeah. You look wonderful." He pulled the covers up over them against the chill night air.

Rose reached over and turned her lamp out, snuggling against him under the covers. They embraced, kissing, forgetting about the past as they moved to celebrate the new year.


	63. A New Addition 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Three

_Sunday, January 19, 2004_

The winter rain beat down upon the roof of the house, a muted sound that masked other sounds from outside. Faintly, the barking of dogs and the sounds of passing cars could be heard, but the rain on the roof silenced other noises.

It was not so quiet inside. Rose sat up in annoyance from where she was stretched out on the couch, studying, looking toward the pan set under one of the leaks in the roof. The dripping water made a plinking noise as it ran from the crack in the roof into the metal container below.

Ordinarily, Rose didn't mind the sound of water dripping, but today it was driving her crazy. She was attempting to read her singularly dull textbook on political science, and every sound was capable of distracting her. She had to study, but the material was so dull that the sound of a leaking roof was more interesting.

Finally, she got up and fetched a dish towel from the kitchen, using it to mute the sound of the dripping water. For a moment, she considered just removing the pan and letting the water run, but soon discarded the idea. The rain was pouring; if the water wasn't collected it would flood the living room floor, ruining the carpet and possibly the furniture. The carpet wasn't much to look at anyway, but it would be even worse covered with mildew.

Looking in exasperation at the boring book, Rose settled back onto the couch to continue her study attempt. She could think of better things to do, but she had to get the boring part of her assignment out of the way before anymore distractions came on the scene.

She and Helga were the only ones home. Tommy and Jack had gone to a car show in Southland, though how interesting a car show would be in the rain, Rose didn't know. She had declined their offer to bring her along, preferring the boring book to slogging through puddles staring at cars.

Helga was in her room, resting. She hadn't slept well the night before; Rose had heard her wandering around the house in the wee hours of the morning. At breakfast, she had complained of a backache, going back to her room to lie down shortly thereafter. When Tommy had offered to bring her to the car show, she had given a look that had sent him scurrying away.

Jack and Tommy had gone to the car show by themselves. Jack had stood patiently while Rose had fussed over him, making sure his coat was buttoned up. He had been a little exasperated with her fretting, but had understood the reason for it. He had caught strep throat from her, coming down with it just after New Year's, and it had taken him even longer than her to get over it. Rose had been concerned—he was still on the thin side from his ordeal the previous summer—but he had recovered. She was just glad that no one else in the household had caught it, especially Helga, who was almost ready to give birth.

Helga had been on maternity leave since December nineteenth, to both the relief and trepidation of Jack and Rose. They had been relieved that she was there to nurse them through their bouts with strep throat, but also concerned that she would catch it, possibly endangering her baby. They had both been relieved when the strep epidemic had passed and she had shown no signs of catching it. Helga had shrugged and remarked that she rarely caught anything; possibly because she was exposed to so many diseases at work that she had developed an immunity to them.

Rose looked up when she heard Helga's door open and close. Her roommate came slowly down the hall, one hand on her distended stomach and the other on her back. She waddled into the living room and sat down on one of the chairs in front of the television set.

"What's going on?" Rose asked her, setting the book aside.

"Did Jack and Tommy say what time they'd be back?"

"No. Why?"

Helga didn't answer. She was looking at watch, counting silently. When she looked up, her face wore an expression of nervous excitement.

"I can't wait around until they get back. Could you please drive me to the hospital? I think it's time."

"You're in labor?"

Helga nodded. "I've been in labor since about one o'clock this morning, but it usually takes a while for babies to come. The pains are about five minutes apart now, so I think it's time to go to the hospital. I'd drive myself, but..."

"It's not a problem." Rose smiled at her friend, her eyes lighting up. "How exciting! You're finally having the baby."

"And on the due date, too."

"Go get whatever it is you need to bring with you to the hospital. I'll write Jack and Tommy a note, and we'll be on our way."

Helga nodded in agreement, struggling to rise from the chair. Rose hurried over and gave her a hand, pulling her up from the soft seat.

"Thanks." Helga turned and headed down the hall, stopping once and leaning against the wall as another pain struck her.

Rose hurried into the kitchen and found the pad of sticky notes. Peeling one off and sticking it to the table, she hastily wrote a note to Jack and Tommy.

_Helga went into labor. I took her to the hospital. I'll call you when we get there._

_Rose_

Helga came into the kitchen as Rose finished the note, a small canvas bag in her hand. Rose noticed a corner of the baby blanket Helga had made poking out of the bag. The baby would have the best of care, with a mother already so dedicated to him.

"You ready to go?" Helga asked Rose, rubbing her back with one hand and holding the bag with the other.

"Yeah." Rose dug her keys out of her purse and opened the front door. "Let's go before Baby de Rosa makes an appearance on the kitchen floor. I really don't know how to be a midwife."

"I'd tell you what to do," Helga assured her, pulling the door closed behind her. "I'm a nurse, remember? I know about obstetrics." At Rose's wide-eyed look, she reassured her, "I don't think you're going to have to play midwife. I've still got a ways to go, I think. Several hours, at least."

"I hope so," Rose responded. "Let's get going."


	64. A New Addition 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Four

Rose drove along the freeway toward Southland in silence. Helga didn't have much to say. Every few minutes she would look at her watch, gauging the length of the contraction. In spite of her silence, her eyes sparkled with excitement as they drew nearer to the hospital. In just a few hours, she would have her baby.

As Rose drove up the off ramp from the freeway, Helga looked at her watch again, her free hand resting on her distended stomach. Just as Rose pulled up to the stoplight, Helga gave a shocked exclamation.

"Oh! Oh, no."

"What? What is it?" They were only a couple of blocks from the hospital. Rose looked at Helga to see what was wrong.

"My water just broke. I'm afraid your passenger seat is soaked."

"Don't worry about it." Rose turned down the street toward the hospital. "It's no worse than the bloodstains Jack left on that seat." She glanced at Helga. "You are going to make it to the hospital before you have the baby, aren't you?"

"Since we're there, I'm sure I will."

"Oh, right." Rose had been so concerned about Helga that she had almost driven past the hospital.

"Just drop me off at the hospital entrance."

"I'm going to stay until the baby is born. It isn't everyday that one's roommate has a baby."

"Well, go find a parking space, then. But drop me off anyway."

Rose dropped Helga off at the hospital entrance and hurried to join her. Helga was leaning on the admitting desk, talking to the nurse there.

She turned when Rose came up behind her. "They'll admit me in a minute," she told her. "My doctor is on her way." She wrapped her arms around her middle. "Finally, I'm going to have this baby. It feels like I've been pregnant forever, even though it's only since last April. I just wish Fabrizio could be here to see the baby."

"Maybe he knows," Rose responded. "Maybe he's watching right now, waiting for his son to come into the world."

"I hope so. I really hope so. He would have been so happy." Another nurse arrived with a wheelchair for Helga. After sitting down, she looked up at Rose and asked, "Could you call Tommy and Jack and let them know what's going on? I think they'll want to know, too."

"Sure." Rose waited until Helga was wheeled through the doors, then headed outside, pulling her cell phone from her purse.

There was no answer to her first calls. Tommy and Jack had not yet returned from the car show, and neither of them had their cell phones on. Rose waited fifteen minutes, then tried calling home again.

This time, Tommy answered.

"Hello?"

"Tommy? It's Rose."

"Jack and I found your note. Helga's having the baby?"

"Yes. She's in Memorial Hospital. I'm sticking around until the baby is born."

"We'll be there as soon as we can. Helga didn't tell me it was Memorial Hospital she was going to have the baby in."

"It's the closest one."

"Right. I guess that makes sense. Anyway, we'll be there soon. Hang around."

"I'm not going anywhere. This is a special event. How often does our roommate have a baby?"

"Not often," Tommy agreed. "Listen, we're going to get going now. Are you in the main waiting room or the emergency waiting room?"

"The main waiting room. This isn't an emergency. Just a normal birth."

"We'll see you in about forty-five minutes, okay?"

"Great. See you."

Rose hung up the phone and headed back into the waiting room, out of the still pouring rain.

*****

Jack and Tommy arrived about an hour later. There had been an accident on the freeway, caused by the rain slick road, so they had sat in traffic for quite a while before being able to move ahead.

Tommy rushed into the waiting room ahead of Jack, concerned for his cousin. "How is she?" she asked Rose, who was sitting in one of the chairs reading an ancient magazine.

"Fine, as far as I know," she told him. "We can't go up there with her—Helga doesn't want an audience—but her doctor promised to keep us informed. So far, so good."

"Good." Tommy sat down next to her. Jack ambled in after him, taking off his coat and shaking the water droplets from it.

"So, she's fine so far?" he asked, taking a seat on the other side of Rose. His voice was still a little hoarse from the strep throat.

"Yes. Everything should be fine, according to both her and her doctor. It just may take a while. Her water broke on the way here, but apparently that's not a sure indication of a quick birth. It could take hours."

"I'm staying," Tommy told them. "She's my cousin, after all."

"Hey, we're staying, too," Jack spoke up. "She's our roommate. While we're waiting, does anyone want something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine," Rose told him, holding up her water bottle.

"I could use some coffee," Tommy told him.

"One coffee and one Coke coming right up." Jack looked at Rose. "You sure you don't want something?"

"Well...get me some hot chocolate, if the cafeteria has it."

"You sure you don't want coffee?"

"One cup of coffee and I'll be bouncing around the waiting room. Hot chocolate is fine, or if they don't have it, I'll stick to water."

"Okay." Jack got up and headed toward the cafeteria, leaving Rose and Tommy to wait.

He returned about ten minutes later, balancing their drinks.

"That was fast," Tommy commented, taking his coffee from Jack.

"I know my way around. I've spent way too much time here."

"No lie," Rose murmured, sipping her hot chocolate. "You know, this definitely isn't one of my favorite places. It makes me think of waiting in fear, hoping that the person you're waiting for will make it, but fearing that they won't."

"Like you waited for me—several times."

"Yes. Like I waited for you. The first time you were here, the doctor told me that your prognosis was very poor, and that I shouldn't get my hopes up. I couldn't help hoping that you would come out of that coma, though. I was so relieved when you did."

"And then I got sick, and tried to kill myself, and you spent several hours waiting for me then."

"I was so mad at you. I couldn't understand why you would do something so stupid—in spite of the fact that I tried it once myself."

"You tried to commit suicide once?" Tommy asked, shocked.

"It was over a year ago, in November of 2002. I was overworked, under pressure, unhappy with my fiancé and my mother, and I didn't see any way out. So I tried to jump off the landing of the stairs at Elias University." She glanced at Jack. "That was when Jack and I first met. He talked me out of jumping, and then pulled me back over the railing when I slipped. He saved my life."

Tommy shook his head. "No wonder neither of you would talk about where you met, except to say it was at the Elias University library."

"Well, please don't spread it around that I tried that. It was a bad idea, and one I'd rather not have repeated."

"I won't say a word," Tommy promised. "I remember all those times waiting to see if Jack would be okay, especially when he was in the coma, and when he had the brain surgery."

"The brain surgery finally fixed things," Jack told them. "At any rate, we're not waiting to see if someone will live or die this time. Helga's having a baby. That's a happy event, and in a few hours we'll get to visit with her and see the baby."

"It's just a pity Fabrizio didn't live to see this," Rose said. "Helga was talking about how much she wished he could be there, and how she hoped he could see the baby from wherever he is." She paused. "At least the baby will have two good role models. You two are the best uncles, or cousins, or whatever, a baby could ask for."

"So I guess that'll make you an aunt."

Rose laughed at the idea. "An aunt without having any siblings or in-laws."

"Well, you'll be something to the kid. I've heard her talking to the baby through that cardboard tube, describing his cousin Tommy and his Uncle Jack and Aunt Rose," Tommy told them, trying not to laugh at the memory of how Helga had tried to communicate with her unborn child.

"She used to sing to the baby through that cardboard tube, too," Jack commented, laughing at the memory. "She learned the most polite of Rose's folk songs and sang them to the baby."

"I think the baby's first words will be sung," Rose added, laughing with them. "She told me to stop singing my song from the musical because she didn't want the baby to sing instead of cry at birth, especially not a song like _I Don't Know How To Love Him_."

"That would be weird," Jack agreed. "It might just make the annals of medical miracles."

*****

The wait went on through the afternoon and into the evening. The three walked down to the cafeteria to get something for dinner, then returned to their vigil, waiting for the announcement of the birth. They went through most of the magazines in the room and all of the bad jokes Rose had learned from her step-grandfather, which had Tommy groaning and begging Rose to stop and Jack laughing uproariously and egging her on, before Helga's doctor stepped into the waiting room just after 9:30.

"How is she?" Rose asked. Tommy and Jack turned to look at the doctor as well.

"Your friend is fine. She has a healthy baby boy, born at 9:08 PM. She said to tell you to come up and visit for a short time before she falls asleep. It's not usual hospital practice," she added, "but Helga is well-known here and can get away with a few things. Still, you'd better make it quick. Giving birth can be very tiring."

She turned and headed for the elevator, followed by Helga's three roommates.


	65. A New Addition 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Five

The three roommates followed the obstetrician to Helga's room on the fifth floor. After checking to see that her patient was well, the doctor left, leaving mother and child alone with their visitors.

Helga was sitting up in bed, tired but happy. The infant lay cradled in her arms, almost hidden beneath the baby blanket she had made for him.

Tommy swiped a chair from the hallway and sat down next to his cousin, while Jack and Rose stood beside her, looking down at the newborn. Helga winced, sitting up straighter, and pulled the blanket back from the sleeping baby's face.

The infant's tiny head was covered with a thatch of thick black hair, much like his father's. His skin tone, while darker than his mother's, was not yet fully discernible under the normal redness of a newborn. One tiny thumb worked its way free of the blanket and found its way into the baby's mouth.

"What's his name?" Tommy asked, awestruck at the sight of his newborn cousin.

Helga cuddled the baby closer. "His name is Daniel Fabrizio de Rosa."

"It suits him," Rose murmured, looking at the baby. "Can I hold him?"

"Sure." Helga handed the baby to Rose, carefully supporting his head with one hand. "Hold his head like this, carefully. His head has lots of soft spots."

"Soft spots?"

"It lets the baby's head be squeezed enough to be born," Helga explained. "That's why a newborn's head looks so funny."

Rose cradled the baby just as Helga had shown her, rocking him gently. Daniel took his thumb from his mouth and waved his hand around, his eyes opening and staring in blank fascination at his Aunt Rose. The waving hand found a loose red curl and wrapped around it, tugging.

Rose gently removed her hair from the baby's grip. "He's darling, Helga," she told her roommate. "He looks so much like Fabrizio, except I think he's got your face."

"It's a little soon too tell who he looks like, but I think you're right." Helga nodded as Tommy held out his arms to hold his new cousin.

Tommy looked a little worried about holding the baby, handling him gingerly as though he might break. Helga smiled.

"You don't have to be afraid of him," she told her cousin. "Babies don't break easily, and he won't bite. He hasn't got any teeth yet."

Tommy smiled a little sheepishly, holding his baby cousin more securely before passing him to Jack.

By this time, the newborn baby had grown tired of being passed around and began to whimper, progressing to a full-fledged wail as Jack took him from Tommy.

The moment Jack cradled Daniel in his arms, he stopped crying, opening his eyes and staring at the man holding him. Calming, he waved his hand around, his thumb finding its way back into his mouth.

"He likes you," Helga commented, watching Jack holding her son. "Rose is right. You are good with kids."

Jack didn't answer. He stroked the tiny cheek of his best friend's newborn son, wishing that Fabrizio had lived to see him. Jack knew he would have been proud.

*****

About fifteen minutes later, the three roommates left the hospital, allowing Helga and Daniel to get some much-needed rest. Jack had ridden to the hospital with Tommy, but elected to go home with Rose.

As they drove in the direction of the freeway, he was quiet, lost in thought. Seeing the newborn baby, the son of Fabrizio and Helga, had given him a lot to think about.

As they turned onto the freeway, Rose glanced at him briefly. "What's on your mind?"

Jack leaned back against the seat, propping himself up as he slid down a little on the plastic garbage bag Rose had covered the seat with. "A lot of things."

"Such as?"

"Fabrizio. Helga. Daniel." He paused. "The fact that Fabrizio and Daniel will never know each other. It's sad for a son not to have a father."

Rose drove carefully along the dark freeway, avoiding flooded areas. The rain had stopped, but this section of freeway was low-lying and flooded easily. When she had reached higher ground, she spoke to him again.

"You're talking about yourself, too, aren't you? You still miss your father."

Jack was silent for a moment. "Yes. I still miss him. That's one thing that Daniel will never do—miss his father. He never knew him."

"But you knew your father. And you lost him when you were fifteen."

"Yes. It was rough, especially since Mom died at the same time." He sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if Dad would approve of where I've wound up in life."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I've done some less than wonderful things, you know."

"Yes, but in spite of everything, you've become a well-respected advertising artist, you're in college, and you have a good marriage. If your father was anything like you've described him, he'd be proud of you for what you've accomplished. From what you've said, he was a tolerant, forgiving man, who probably would have forgiven you for doing some stupid things when you were a teenager. Kids who are unhappy and not well supervised get into trouble a lot. You, at least, overcame that and got out of trouble."

"You think so?" Jack sounded like he was about to say more, but changed his mind.

"I think so. He must have been a good man, to have raised a son like you. And someday, I'm sure, you'll be a good father yourself."


	66. A Growing Family 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Six

_February 19, 2004_

Rose gagged miserably, bent over the toilet in the master bathroom. She had been sick several mornings a week since late in January, and every time she thought she was better, the illness came back with a vengeance. She usually felt better later; the sickness was mostly early in the morning. By mid-morning, she felt fine.

Rose groaned miserably under her breath as she stood up and flushed the toilet. Jack was worried about her, she knew. He fussed over her when she got sick, and had been pestering her to go see a doctor for the past week. She was beginning to think he was right. Even though she felt better later, the morning sickness was persistent.

She grimaced at the thought. Morning sickness made it sound like she was pregnant. She shook her head at the thought, rejecting it, then looked at herself more closely in the mirror, reconsidering.

_Could I be pregnant?_ she wondered. It didn't seem likely. She took her pill each morning at the same time to make sure that she didn't get pregnant. _But no form of birth control is foolproof_, her mind nagged her, _except abstinence._ And they certainly hadn't been practicing that!

Rose opened the medicine cabinet, taking out the packet of birth control pills. She started to take one out, then stopped, counting them to be sure she hadn't missed any.

She hadn't. Everything was right on schedule.

Nevertheless, she found herself thinking back, trying to remember the last time she'd had her period. With a sinking feeling, she realized that it had been in December. She had been so busy since that she hadn't noticed its absence.

She looked at the packet of pills, debating whether to take one. If she was pregnant, she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize her baby's health, but if she wasn't, she didn't want to get pregnant. She and Jack had planned on waiting at least another year before they started their family.

Rose shrugged to herself. Most likely, she wasn't pregnant. Being sick in December had no doubt thrown her cycle off. She tried to forget the fact that being sick or being under stress had never thrown her cycle off before.

_I probably just have babies on my mind,_ she thought, setting the pills aside and reaching for a washcloth for her face. Jack knocked on the door.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute," she called, turning on the water and soaking the washcloth under it. She heard him sigh, but ignored him.

As she washed her face and applied her makeup, Rose thought about the baby that Helga had brought into the household a month earlier. She had been in the hospital for two days following the birth—a decided improvement over the drive-through deliveries of a few years earlier—and had been brought home by Jack on the afternoon of January twenty-first, after he was done with work for the day.

Daniel had no shortage of adults doting on him, and he adored the attention. Whenever he cried, someone would pick him up and see what the matter was, be it his mother, his cousin, or Jack or Rose. The infant adored all of them, though Helga was the one who fed him and cared for him the most, especially at night.

Helga had set up space for the baby in her own room for the first few months of his life so that his crying wouldn't wake up the entire household, but the walls of the house were thin, and Rose had heard Daniel wailing sometimes at night. The cries usually stopped quickly as his mother picked him up and tended to his needs. Helga often looked tired in the morning from being up all night caring for her newborn, but she was still on maternity leave, so she could sleep while the baby slept.

Rose wondered what Helga would do when she went back to work in a couple of weeks. Helga had complained that she didn't want to leave Daniel in daycare, but the hospital was not equipped for her to bring him to work with her. Prior to the earthquake, Memorial Hospital had had a daycare program for the children of employees, but with the changes following the earthquake the program had been discontinued. Helga had checked out different daycare centers, but was leaning most heavily toward a college student that Jack and Rose had introduced to her. The young woman was looking for a day job while she went to school at night, and had spent years helping to care for younger siblings and baby-sitting other people's children. Most importantly, Daniel seemed to like her, a definite plus as far as Helga was concerned. The hours would be long, but the student was willing to come to the house to watch Daniel, and in the meantime Helga had begun sending out her resume in search of an office job that would have shorter hours. She had no choice but to work, since she was the sole support for herself and her son, but she wanted to be able to spend as much time as possible with him.

Rose jumped as Jack banged on the door again. "Rose, hurry up! I have to get ready for work."

Rose realized that she had been staring at the mirror, lost in thought. Scooping up the packet of birth control pills, she looked at them and then tossed them back into the medicine cabinet. She wasn't taking any chances. There were other forms of birth control available that wouldn't jeopardize a baby's health, if she was carrying one, and would still be effective if she wasn't.

The only question was, how was she going to explain it to Jack?


	67. A Growing Family 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Seven

_Wednesday, February 26, 2004_

Rose stepped from the car, pulling her coat more tightly around her against the early evening chill. She had finally taken Jack's advice and seen a doctor. Now, she had to share what she had learned with him.

She wondered how he would react. This definitely wasn't something they had expected to happen. Cal would have been furious, she knew. He hated being inconvenienced in any way, and most likely would have slapped her and shoved her around for disrupting his carefully laid plans. She shuddered inwardly at the thought.

Jack wouldn't slap her or shove her around, of that she was certain, but she wasn't sure he would be happy, either. Picking up her purse, she shut the car door and looked across the street. Jack's car was there, so he was home, and he would undoubtedly want to know what had happened as soon as she walked through the door.

Rose hurried across the street, shivering in the February chill. It had been as warm as spring a few days earlier, but now winter was back with a vengeance. She wondered briefly if it was a bad omen, then shook her head at the thought. Jack wasn't going to blow up at her, or hit her, or reject her, either.

She opened the front door, stepping into the warm, brightly-lit kitchen. Jack was standing at the counter, cutting up some carrots. She had forgotten that it was his week to cook.

He turned as soon as she walked in. "Hey, Rose."

"Hey." Rose hurried down the hall to put away her purse and coat, then returned to the kitchen. Sitting down at the table, she looked at Jack.

"How did things go?" he asked, setting the carrots aside and turning to face her. "You did go to the doctor today, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Are you okay?" Jack's concern was obvious.

"I...I...Jack, I have something to tell you."

"What? What is it?" He looked at her, worried.

"I...think you'd better sit down." Rose pulled out the chair beside her.

He sat down beside her, his face showing his concern. "Rose, what is it? Are you sick? Did you hurt yourself somehow? What's wrong?"

Rose saw his concern and tried to ease it. "It's nothing bad, really. I'm not sick, and I'm not hurt."

"Then...what is it?"

Rose looked at him, gauging his reaction. "I'm pregnant, Jack."

He stared at her for a moment, shock, surprise, and confusion on his face. "You're what?"

"I'm pregnant."

"How did that happen?"

Rose gave him an annoyed look. "You know how it happened."

"Yes, I know _that_, but...I thought you were taking birth control pills."

"I am...I mean, I was."

"_Was_?" Jack's voice was rising.

"I went off them when I began to suspect that I was pregnant, so that I wouldn't hurt the baby, if there was one."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Why do you think I insisted we use condoms this past week?"

"I thought you wanted to try something new."

Rose sighed, giving him an irritated look. "Actually, I decided that if I was pregnant, I didn't want to jeopardize the baby's health, but if I wasn't, I didn't want to get that way."

"And when did you start suspecting that you were pregnant?"

"Last week, like I told you." Rose's voice was beginning to rise as well.

"So why didn't you say something?"

"I wanted to wait until I was sure."

"And you weren't sure until today?"

"I took a home pregnancy test last week, and it was positive, but sometimes those things are wrong, so I went to the doctor to be sure."

"When?"

"When what?"

"When did you get pregnant?"

"I think it was on New Year's. Before that, I was too sick to make love with you, and after that, you caught strep throat. I didn't understand how it could have happened when I was taking birth control pills, but the doctor told me that the antibiotic I took—amoxicillin—can reduce the effectiveness of birth control pills."

"So, why didn't you tell me that the pills might not work back when you were taking the antibiotics? I would have taken care of it!"

"I didn't know!" Rose threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I could barely understand a word the doctor said, let alone ask what side effects the antibiotics might have. I was feeling so awful, I didn't really think about side effects, anyway."

There was a wail from down the hall. Helga stormed into the kitchen, furious.

"Would you two please shut up? I just got the baby to sleep, and now you've woken him up."

"Sorry, Helga." Jack lowered his voice, returning to his conversation with Rose. "Now what are we going to do? We weren't planning on having a baby for at least another year."

"Well, sometimes the best-laid plans go awry, don't they?" Rose responded, irritated. "I don't know what you plan to do, but I'm having a baby. I don't know about you, but I'm glad to be having a baby, even though we didn't plan it. The only way to be sure of not starting a baby is to be abstinent, and we weren't that!"

Their voices were rising again. Helga stomped back into the kitchen, a squalling Daniel in her arms.

"If the two of you don't shut up right now, I'm going to—"

"Maybe you should teach her how to take care of that baby," Jack interrupted, gesturing to Rose. "She's going to need to know how soon."

"_I'm_ going to need to know how? Excuse me? You're going to need to know, too. You're as responsible for this baby as I am." Rose was shouting now.

"What's going on? What baby?" Helga asked, but they ignored her, too busy glowering at each other to respond.

"Oh, I'm responsible, am I?" Jack shouted back at Rose. "Are you sure?"

He immediately knew that it was the wrong thing to say. Rose's face went red, then white with fury. He almost expected her to slap him, and knew that he would have deserved it, but Rose just pushed him away and stalked to the living room door.

"Rose...I'm sorry..." he began, but got no further.

"You filthy little gutter rat," she hissed, her voice low but distinct now. "Stay away from me. Don't talk to me, don't follow me, don't come anywhere near me. Just stay away." She yanked open the door and stepped through it.

"Rose!" Jack started to follow her, but the door slammed in his face, cutting him off. "Dammit, Rose..."

Daniel's renewed wailing interrupted him. The infant screamed in fear at the angry voices, kicking his legs and squalling at the top of his lungs. Helga held her son against her shoulder, rubbing his back soothingly and glaring at Jack.

When she had calmed Daniel down, she sat down at the table, watching Jack angrily attacking the carrots with a paring knife. After staring at him for a moment, she spoke.

"So, Rose is pregnant, I take it?"

"She's pregnant," Jack replied, tossing the carrots into a saucepan and adding water. He started to slam on the lid, but a quelling glare from Helga convinced him to put it on quietly.

"And you're not happy about it," she went on, rocking her now sleeping infant.

"It's not that. I wanted to have kids someday. I just didn't expect it to happen now."

"I didn't quite expect to have Daniel, but I'm sure glad I did." Helga stroked the baby's head gently. "When did you two plan on having kids?"

"In a year or two."

"It'll be the better part of a year before Rose has the baby. You're both mature enough to take care of a baby—usually, anyway—and you have the resources to provide for it. What's a year or two early, anyway? You're both good with kids, and you wanted to have them someday, anyway."

"I wanted a chance for us to finish some of our college education before we had kids."

"I thought you were planning on being an art therapist."

"I am."

"It'll take you more than a year or two—or three—to get through your schooling for that. If you'd had kids the way you planned, you would have been raising them while going to college anyhow."

Jack leaned against the counter, running a hand through his hair. "I know that. I just..."

"You just overreacted?"

"She started it!" His voice was rising again.

Helga gave him a warning look as Daniel stirred, stroking the baby's back until he fell asleep again. Jack pressed his lips together, glaring at them.

Helga sighed. "It's at moments like this that I question your ability to raise a child. You're both acting like children yourselves."

"I'm perfectly capable of raising a child, and so is Rose."

"Then what are you arguing about?"

"Dammit..." Jack trailed off, trying to think of why they were fighting. "She surprised me, is all. I guess she didn't like the way I reacted."

"So she yelled at you, and you yelled back. Very mature, that."

"Helga..."

"Don't glare at me, Jack. I'm not the one you're mad at. You have more important issues at hand now, anyway—like how you're going to get Rose to forgive you for accusing her of cheating on you."

"I didn't mean to say that."

"Does she know that?" Helga raised an eyebrow at him. "Knowing Rose, you're going to have a hell of a time explaining that remark."

Tommy walked through the front door, letting in a gust of cold air. Shutting the door behind him, he looked at his two roommates staring each other down. Rose was nowhere to be seen.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking from Jack to Helga and back again.

"I'll let him explain it," Helga told Tommy, standing up and carrying the sleeping baby down the hall.

"Okay, what's going on?" Tommy looked at Jack, who was still leaning against the counter. "Are you fighting with Helga, or with Rose, or are Rose and Helga fighting about something, or what?"

"I'm fighting with Rose, not Helga. She's just mad because we woke the baby up."

"I'd be mad at you, too. That kid can scream."

"Shut up." Jack looked up to see Tommy scarfing down the carrots from the pan. He'd forgotten to turn the stove. "Get out of that." He took the pan away, splashing water on the floor. "I'm sick of cooking." He slammed the pan back down on the stove, splattering out more water, and turned the stove on.

"What are you and Rose fighting about? This morning, you were so worried about her you couldn't think about anything else. Now, you're fighting with her. What happened there?"

"She found out what the problem is."

"And you yelled at her for getting sick? Aren't you acting a little like that ex-fiancé of hers?"

"She isn't sick. She's pregnant."

"So? I thought you liked kids."

"I do like kids. I just didn't plan on being a father so soon. We were going to wait a year or two..."

"So what's wrong with having a kid now? Besides the fact that there'll be two of them screaming all night."

"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it."

"So what are you so mad about?"

"She took me by surprise, since I didn't expect this to happen right now. I guess she didn't like my reaction, so she yelled at me. And I yelled back."

"And she...where is Rose, anyway?"

"Out back. She walked out on our fight." He'd heard the back door slam shortly after she'd slammed the living room door in his face.

Tommy shook his head. "What did you say to make her so mad?"

"I as much as accused her of sleeping with another man."

Tommy shook his head, looking at Jack with a mixture of disgust and sympathy. "Damn…you're an idiot. She's not gonna forgive you easily."

"I know. What in the hell am I gonna do? I didn't mean to say it. It just slipped out."

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course not! I know she isn't the sort to fool around." He knew that Rose was sensitive about the subject of sex. She was warm and willing in his arms, but her experience with Cal had made her touchy about the subject. He knew full well that she hadn't been sleeping with anyone else, but he had been angry when he had said it, wanting to lash out and hurt her. He'd a done a good job, too. Now the question was, how was he going to get back on her good side?

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts. "Nobody's shocked that she's pregnant, you know—or that you're the father. You two get it on often enough."

Jack stared at him. "How do you know that we 'get it on' often enough?"

Tommy shrugged. "The walls are thin, and you're not always quiet."

Jack turned bright red. "Sorry," he mumbled, running a hand over his flaming face.

"Don't worry about it. I'd think there was something wrong between you two if you didn't sometimes make that much noise."

"I did not want to hear that," Jack mumbled, his face still flaming. "I'm going to try to talk to her. Turn that off when it steams, will you?"

"Sure."

"And don't eat it yourself," Jack added, heading for the living room door. He had to try to work things out with Rose.

*****

Rose leaned against a tree in the backyard, shaking with fury. The night air was cold, but she hardly noticed.

_How dare he?_ she thought, remembering Jack's words. _How dare he accuse me of sleeping with someone else? I thought he knew me better than that. And his reaction to the baby—he likes other people's kids well enough, but when it comes to one of our own, he blows his top. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he's more like Cal than I ever suspected. I never thought he'd get this mad about it. Surprised, yes. Shocked, yes. Angry, no._

She slid down the tree trunk, sitting in the pile of leaves still left from fall. Crossing her arms over her chest, she set her jaw. He was in the wrong—she wasn't going to sit here and cry about it. She was cold, but she wasn't going to give up and come inside. They wouldn't lock her out, anyway. Someone would eventually come and look for her, if only to tell her that dinner was ready.

Dinner. She grimaced at the thought. She didn't have any appetite now, but she had to eat, to keep her baby healthy. Putting her hands on her stomach, she leaned back. Yes. Her baby. Jack might not want it, but she certainly did. If they were going to split up over this, so be it.

She opened her eyes when she heard the dry leaves crunch as someone walked across them. Jack stood over her.

Rose quickly stood up, glaring at him. She was in no mood to talk to him right now.

"Rose..." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of what to say. "About what I said..."

"Save it, Jack. I don't want to hear it."

"I'm trying to—"

"I said I don't want to hear it!" She stepped past him, heading toward the house, then stopped, whirling around to face him. "Oh, and for your information, I've only slept with two men in my life. You—and Cal. And since Cal is in prison in northern California, it should be pretty obvious who the father of this baby is."

And before Jack could say another word, she turned and stormed into the house.


	68. A Growing Family 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Eight

Jack slid into bed, pulling the covers up over himself. He turned to look at Rose, who was lying as far away from him as possible, almost clinging to the opposite edge of the bed, her back to him. She hadn't spoken to him since she had stalked off into the house hours earlier.

Rose had maintained her frosty silence throughout dinner, looking away and pretending great interest in something else every time Jack had spoken to her, even if it was something as simple as a request to pass the salt. After dinner, instead of watching television with the others, she had stayed in the kitchen, studying, though her thoughts were far from her notes. Later, she had gone to bed ahead of Jack, lying as far away from his side of the bed as possible. Had she had a choice, she would have slept elsewhere, but there wasn't really any other place she could sleep. The one unoccupied bedroom contained only a crib, and the living room couch was really too hard and lumpy to sleep on. Besides, as far as she was concerned, if anyone should sleep on the couch, it was Jack. He was in the wrong here, not her.

She chose to sleep beside Jack, but she turned her back on him, still maintaining her silence. Her refusal to speak to him was as much a barrier as a locked door, shutting him out.

Jack lay looking at her for a moment before he spoke. "Rose."

She didn't look at him. Sighing, he tried again, determined to resolve this argument before they fell asleep. When they had married, Kathleen Fleming had advised them to never go to bed angry, advice that he considered sound. However, Rose's stubborn refusal to even look at him was sorely trying his patience.

"Rose," he began again.

"Shut up and leave me alone."

At least he had gotten her to speak to him. "Rose, would you please just listen to me?"

Silence.

"Look, Rose, what I implied earlier, about other men...I didn't mean it. I was angry, and I said the wrong thing."

"Do tell." She moved farther away from him, nearly falling out of bed. Steadying herself, she finally glanced at him. "Whether you like it or not, I'm having a baby. Our baby. I didn't plan it, and neither did you, but it still exists. Whatever you may think about it, I love this child already."

She turned away again, burying her face in her pillow, trying to hide the tears that were suddenly running down her face. Everything had been wonderful—they had survived all the trials and tribulations that life had thrown at them, had finally gotten married—and now, because of an unexpected pregnancy, things had suddenly fallen apart. She didn't understand why it had happened, but maybe her mother had been right. Maybe marrying Jack had been a mistake. Maybe she should have gotten out while she could. They could divorce easily enough, but they would still be connected by the child.

"Rose, I'm not upset about the baby." Jack put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened and pulled away, her face still buried in the pillow, but he could tell that she was crying. "I was just...surprised, is all. I didn't expect us to become parents so soon."

"You have a damned funny way of showing surprise." Rose turned to face him, not caring that her face was red and streaked with tears.

"I wasn't angry because I was surprised. I was angry because you were angry with me."

"I was mad at you because you were mad at me."

"I was angry with you? How so?"

"You were upset that I hadn't thought to use a back-up form of contraceptive when I was taking the antibiotics, even though I didn't know what they could do."

"I'm not angry about that, not now that I know that you didn't know."

"Then what were you yelling for?"

"I was more than a little surprised by your news, and I'll admit it, worried. You'd been so sick in the mornings, and then all of a sudden you tell me you're fine, you're just pregnant. I think I overreacted."

"I'll say."

"Rose..." He paused. She wasn't making this easy. "I don't want to fight with you. And I'm not angry about the baby, either. It's sooner than we expected, but that happens sometimes. My parents didn't expect to have me, but they still did. Mom was a college student at the time, working on her Master's degree. They were very surprised to learn that I was on the way, or so they once told me, but once they knew, they wanted me."

"I was a surprise, too," Rose admitted. "Mom and Dad weren't getting along, and wanted to get a divorce, but then they found out that Mom was pregnant with me. They decided to stay together for my sake, though I think they would have been happier apart. But maybe it was better. Sometimes...sometimes I think that Mom didn't really want to have me." Her eyes overflowed again.

"Is that why you were so upset by my reaction?"

"Partly," Rose sniffed, putting her head back down on her pillow. She stayed facing him. "It was also...well...it was stupid, what I was thinking."

"What were you thinking?"

"That you might react like Cal—get angry at me for causing such an inconvenience. I didn't think you'd hit me or push me around, but..."

"But you were still worried about my reaction, and that helped blow things out of proportion."

"Yes. But it was also what you said, asking whether I was sure you were responsible for the baby. I never thought you'd think that of me. I do not sleep around. I'm not like Beatriz."

"Thank God for small favors." Rose glanced up at him. "Rose, I didn't mean what I said. I just opened my mouth and said the first thing I thought of, and it was something really stupid, something that I knew full well wasn't true. I don't think you'd sleep around; I know you better than that. I was just being stupid."

"I agree."

"Rose...I'm trying to apologize here. Would you please listen to me?"

Rose sat up, looking at him. "I'm listening."

"I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean it, and I don't think you sleep around. I'm not upset about the baby, either. Yes, it is unexpected, but I like kids, and believe it or not, I'm looking forward to our baby. Can you forgive me for being an idiot?"

Rose was crying again. Slowly, she reached out and put her arms around him. "I forgive you," she whispered, "if you can forgive me for taking things the wrong way and blowing them out of proportion. I don't want to fight."

Jack held her close. "We both overreacted," he told her, as Rose put her head against his shoulder. "This was more of a surprise than either of us thought, but I think it's a good kind of surprise." He moved his hand, splaying it across her still-flat abdomen. "Our baby. A son or a daughter who looks like you..."

"Or like you."

"Or like both of us. When are you due?"

"October first."

"Just in time for our first anniversary." Jack sighed softly as Rose pulled him closer. "I love you, Rose. And the little person inside you."

He kissed her, holding her close for several minutes. When they finally broke apart, Rose whispered back, "I love you, too, Jack."

To his surprise, she rolled over onto her back, pulling him atop her. "Rose! What are you doing?"

Rose silenced him with another kiss. Her hands moved to remove the sweats he wore to bed on cold winter nights. Forgetting his surprise, Jack kissed her back, pulling her with him as he turned off the lamp.


	69. A Growing Family 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Sixty-Nine

_Saturday, March 14, 2004_

Rose climbed up the trail beside Jack, a picnic basket carried between them. Though the vernal equinox was still almost a week away, spring was in the air. The sun was warm, but not yet hot, and grass covered the hills with green. Here and there, a mustard plant bloomed, the brilliant yellow blossoms proclaiming the renewal of life. A few tracks of small animals were visible in the still-damp ground as they made their way toward the top of the hill.

It had been over ten months since the afternoon they had met atop the hill, in those precious hours before the earthquake. Much had happened since then, but they had survived, and had come out stronger for their struggles. Now, it was spring again, and they were once more on their way to the place that meant so much to both of them.

Rose smiled as a gentle breeze ruffled her hair, tossing her red curls about her face. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she looked up at Jack as they reached the top of the hill.

He smiled, taking the picnic basket from her and setting it on the ground, then pulled her into his arms, kissing her as he had that first afternoon. Embracing him tightly, Rose returned the kiss, reluctant to end it.

When at last the kiss ended, Rose pulled a thin blanket from the basket and spread it on the damp ground, sinking down onto it. Jack took the food from the basket—fried chicken, French bread, oranges, and sugar cookies—and set it on the blanket. Pulling out two paper plates and two bottles of water, he served their food, sitting down beside Rose when he was done.

Rose sighed contentedly, leaning her head against Jack's shoulder. It was a perfect afternoon, as perfect as the day they had been married atop another hill not far away. Jack looked at her as she sighed, wrapping an arm around her.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, handing her a plate of food.

"Oh, just about how perfect everything is." She smiled, biting into her chicken.

"It is pretty nice," Jack agreed, balancing his plate on his knees. "The sun is shining and warm, spring is here..."

"And we're here together."

"That's the best part."

Rose laughed. "Two and a half weeks ago, I would never have thought that we would be here together like this. We were so angry with each other...I almost thought that it was the end for us."

"I don't like fighting, either—except for the making up part."

Rose kissed his cheek. "I'd rather do the making up part without the fighting."

Jack looked thoughtful. "You know, I can't really remember what I got so mad about. I'm certainly not upset about becoming a father."

"I think you just weren't prepared to have that particular surprise sprung on you. I probably would have been a little shocked, too."

"I'd be really shocked if I heard that _you_ were going to be a father," Jack teased her, ducking as she tossed an orange peel at him.

Rose gave him a playful shove. "Ha ha. Very funny." She set her plate down, leaning back against him. Putting her hands on her stomach, she stroked it gently, as though caring for the child inside.

Jack pulled her closer, putting one hand over hers. "Our baby," he whispered, almost in disbelief. "You have our baby in there."

"A son or a daughter." Rose paused. "Jack, do you care whether the baby is a boy or a girl?"

He leaned back, thinking. "No," he finally told her. "It doesn't matter to me. I'll love it the same, whatever it is."

"Me, too." They leaned against each other for a moment, just enjoying being together.

Jack pushed the empty plates away, pulling Rose into his arms. "There's just one thing I regret," he told her.

Rose glanced up at him. "What's that?"

"That my parents will never meet their grandchild. They would have been very proud, I'm sure. They always wanted more kids, but something went wrong when I was born and Mom could never have anymore children. They thought about adopting, but it never quite worked out. They finally accepted that I would be an only child, but I think they would have been happy to know that they're going to be grandparents."

"You still miss them, don't you?"

Jack sighed. "Yes. I still do, even after all these years. It's been almost eight years since they died, but I still miss them sometimes."

"I understand." Rose reached for his hand. "I still miss my dad, even though he's been gone for almost four years now."

"At least you still have your mom."

"I just wish we got along better."

"Does she know that you're pregnant?"

Rose shook her head. "No. I haven't told her. She doesn't know, unless Nana told her. I talked to Nana on the phone yesterday. She's delighted that there's going to be a great-grandchild. She gave me all sorts of advice."

"She likes to do that."

"It's her profession. She can't get away from it. It's just what she does."

"I know. I have a therapist, too, remember?"

"Are you still talking to Ted?"

"Sometimes. I'm doing a lot better now than I was last summer."

"Definitely," Rose agreed. "A few issues here and there, but nothing major anymore." She expected him to laugh, but he didn't. "Jack? Is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. Hell, I don't know."

"That's quite an answer."

He sighed. "Okay, I'll admit it. I've been thinking about Mom and Dad a lot, ever since Daniel was born. And now, knowing that I'm going to be a father myself—I don't know what to think. I mean—I don't know what I mean, actually."

"Were your parents buried, or cremated?" Rose wanted to know.

"Buried, in Chippewa Falls. Dad had grown up there, and even though Mom was from Green Bay, she considered Chippewa Falls to be home. They were buried together, just three days after the fire."

"Did you go to the funeral?"

He nodded. "Of course. They were my parents. It was a closed casket funeral—nobody really wanted to look at them after the way they'd died. I saw them, and it was horrible." He leaned back, his thoughts still on the past. "I didn't cry at the funeral...I just kind of gave blank stares to everyone. People were very sympathetic—I was newly orphaned, and didn't even have a roof over my head. Everything was gone. Uncle William was my closest relative, but he insisted that he didn't have room for me, so I wound up in foster care. You know the rest."

Rose hugged him, looking at him with sympathy. "My God, how terrible. At least I still had Mom when Dad died. We didn't always get along, but at least I had someone, and a familiar place to live. You didn't have anything."

"I had the clothes on my back, and the little money that they had saved, which was given to me when I turned eighteen and got out of juvenile hall. I stayed with a neighbor for the first week after they died, and then a social worker put me into foster care. I haven't been back to Chippewa Falls since."

"You were placed in foster care in another town?"

"Several other towns. First Eau Claire—two homes there. No one really wanted a grieving fifteen-year-old boy who put on a brave front by lashing out. After the second time I tried to run away, I was moved to Green Bay. I had a grandfather there, but he was in very poor health. There was no way he could have taken me in, and in fact he died soon after I was placed in a foster home there. I wasn't allowed to attend his funeral—I was told it wasn't good for me. I tried to run away again, and was placed in a group home. That was when I got into the gang, and got into trouble."

Rose wrapped her arms around her middle. "I just hope to God our child never has to go through that. It was bad enough that you lost your parents, but to be passed from home to home, and rejected that way—didn't anyone care?"

"A few people did—some of the other kids knew well enough what I was going through, and my first foster mother really tried to help me. I guess I was just more than she could handle."

"But you've never been back to Chippewa Falls? Never visited your parents' grave?"

"Not since the funeral."

"Do you want to go back there?"

He paused, thinking. "I don't know. My last memories of that town are pretty sad. Still, it would be nice to see the people I knew again, and make sure that Mom and Dad's grave is being cared for. I don't know when I could find the time, though."

"Don't you have vacation time coming up in late August or September?"

"Yes. It'll be one year in mid-August, the time that I finally went back to work full-time."

"By mid-September, I'll be on maternity leave. We could go there then."

"You want to go there? There's not much to see. It's a pretty small town."

"I'd like to see where you grew up, meet your old friends. You've already seen where I grew up, in Masline and San Bernardino. Besides, I think it would be good for you. Maybe give you...uh...whatever it is Nana calls it."

"Closure?"

"Yes, closure."

He lay back on the blanket, thinking. "It would be nice to see the kids I grew up with, and see Emmaline again if I can. Uncle William wouldn't be happy to see me back in town, though."

"From the way you've described him, your Uncle William isn't happy to not see you in town, either. In fact, he just plain doesn't sound happy."

"He's probably not happy. I guess we could go. But you know what they say—you can't go home again."

"It's because even if the place you left hasn't changed, you have. That's why you can't go home again. But you can still visit. It's still where you grew up."

Jack nodded. "We'll go, then. For a few days, anyway."

"Good." Rose squeezed his hand. "It'll be okay, you know. No one can throw you out of your old town, whatever is in your past."

"Yeah, but it's the going there, after all this time, that's the problem. Still, we'll go. And we'll be back in plenty of time for you to have the baby here."

Rose hugged her abdomen. "I'll be as big as a whale by then."

"Ah…but whales are beautiful creatures."

"Not when they're human."

"You'll always be beautiful to me. Besides, how could your swelling middle be ugly? That's our baby."

"Yeah...our first baby, but hopefully not our last."

"We'll make more babies together. Trust me."

"I trust you," Rose murmured, kissing him. "We'll have one more, at least." Her expression grew pensive. "I just wish I could spend more time with the baby after it's born."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll have about six weeks after the baby is born before I have to go back to work—I already asked about that. After that, I'll have to leave him or her with a baby-sitter, and that person will get to watch our little one grow up while we work." She sighed, sprawling on the blanket beside Jack. "I'd like a little more time with the baby before I go back to work. When I was little, I sometimes wished that Mom and Dad were around more. Of course, Mom worked as many hours as she could, trying to get ahead, and Dad was always away on his business trips. But a lot of times, Mom would pick me up from daycare at ten o'clock at night and drop me off at five o'clock in the morning. I hardly saw her sometimes. I would sleep on the way to and from daycare, and just see her for a few minutes a day. Of course, we'll be home much more. Work ends at five in the afternoon and doesn't start until eight in the morning, and I always have the weekends off. But still..."

"You know, maybe you could spend more time with the baby after it's born. I forgot to tell you, but my boss gave me a raise yesterday—an extra two hundred a month. I think I could afford to provide for all three of us."

"I don't want to live off of you..."

"We've been supporting each other for months, and we'll be supporting the baby together. Here's what I have in mind—you could keep working until you're ready for maternity leave, then quit. You could take the fall semester off from college to have the baby and take care of it for the first few months, and then go back to school full time for the spring semester, when the baby is a little older. You've been talking about how you wanted to finish your education, and this could be a good time to do it. If you wanted to work, maybe you could take a part-time job with the college—they're always looking for student workers, especially ones who do as well as you. It really wouldn't hurt the baby to spend some time with a baby-sitter, or in daycare—it would give it a chance to start learning how to get along with other people. Everyone would benefit."

"Except you. You'd be paying for all this."

"I want to. It would make me happy. Our expenses aren't really that great anyway. I think it might work out."

Rose mulled the idea over. "Well...maybe. I'll think about it. I don't need to decide for a few months yet, anyway. I just wish it was easier for working mothers…it would be nice to have more maternity leave, even to have daycare at work…" She sat up, glancing at her watch. "We'd better get going. We need to be at the theater at five, especially since I need to warm up my voice and they'll probably want you to help with the set."

"Right." Jack stretched, getting up slowly. They'd both been working for months on the college's production of _Jesus Christ Superstar_, with Rose playing Mary Magdalene and Jack working on the set.

Rose picked up the plates, tucking them inside the basket. Grinning suddenly, she glanced up at Jack, who was folding the blanket.

"What?" he asked, seeing her sudden amusement.

"I was just thinking—a pregnant prostitute? That's a side you don't usually hear about."

"Prostitution is the world's oldest profession..."

"And motherhood is the world's second oldest profession." Rose laughed. "I see the connection."

Jack put the blanket into the basket and picked it up. Laughing, he linked arms with Rose.

"You're not showing yet, anyway, and even if you were, your costume would cover it. Come on. Let's go home."


	70. Homecoming 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy

_Wednesday, September 1, 2004_

By September, Rose was eight months pregnant. Her middle was swollen from the child, as round as a full moon. Jack affectionately referred to her as his blooming Rose, starting with the first time he accompanied her to a prenatal appointment.

Jack had taken as great an interest in the coming baby as Rose had, and he was there when she first had an ultrasound done, watching the image of their child in awe. He also talked the doctor into letting him listen to the baby's heartbeat, and rejoiced with Rose when she felt the baby's first kicks.

Rose had taken Jack up on his advice regarding her work and her desire to spend more time with the baby. Near the end of August, she had quit her job as an office assistant, though not without a little guilt about leaving. She was well-liked at the mental health clinic, and was considered one of their best office assistants. The office threw her a surprise farewell party on the day she left, and a number of clients were sorry to see her go as well, though not Jack, who always worried that she would read his chart and see things that were better left unsaid. Rose had always been careful not to read anything in his chart, knowing that it would make both of them uncomfortable, but Jack was still glad not to have that particular worry anymore.

Surprisingly, just after she left her job, Daniel's baby-sitter decided to go to Australia to study for the semester, leaving Helga looking for a new baby-sitter to fill in while she was gone. Rose quit her job the day before the baby-sitter left, and by the next day found herself hired to take care of Daniel. Helga paid her what she had paid the regular baby-sitter, eliminating many of Rose's worries about money. Daniel was usually an easy child to care for, sleeping a good portion of the day and usually content to play with anything that made noise or had bright colors the rest of the time. He knew and trusted his Aunt Rose, and she was already familiar with him, making the transition into this new job easier. Daniel could be cranky on occasion, particularly if he wasn't feeling well or was teething, but Rose liked caring for him anyway. He almost did seem to be the nephew she would never have.

The baby-sitter planned to return to the United States in December, and had agreed to watch both Daniel and the Dawson baby, making Rose's decision to return to college full-time easier. She was also considering taking a part-time job with the college when she returned, but the college was so close by that she knew that she would have plenty of time to see her baby. She wouldn't be like her mother, so involved in her career that nothing else was important, but she would have a life outside of her home, as well. Jack was as excited about the baby as she was, and together they would give the child a good life.

*****

On the morning of September first, Jack and Rose drove to an airport in San Diego for their trip to Chippewa Falls. They had to park some distance away—security was tight around airports—and take a shuttle to the airport itself. People gave Rose a wide berth, with her big belly and the awkward way she carried her suitcase. Jack offered to carry her suitcase for her, but she declined, since he was already carrying his suitcase and the backpack they were using for carry-on.

They had to check their luggage inside instead of at the curb, as people had once been able to do. Security had been tightened considerably since the terrorist attacks in 2001, necessitating both their long trip to the airport and the long lines to check in their luggage.

"I hate these long lines," Jack complained as they were waiting in line. "I don't see why they can't do security checks at the curb, or at least have a few more people working security. Most people aren't going to try anything anyway."

"It's typical of bureaucracy not to have adequate services available. It would be nice not to have all these security checks, but that's the price we have to pay for having morons in the world. A few stupid people spoil it for everyone."

"It would be nice if they could just run everything through a quick metal detector, but I guess then it would pick up things like jewelry and belt buckles, which aren't usually used as weapons."

"And it would miss weapons that don't contain metal—like some explosives. We're probably safer this way, even if it is a pain."

"Well, it's still better than doing a background check or something on every single person to travel by air. That would take forever, and would probably ban a lot of people who weren't going to do any harm—like me. It's bad enough that the no-fly list picks up people who have the same name as someone on the list, but if they were to go further than that…"

Rose looked up at him. "Your records are still getting uncovered?"

"Yes. I talked to a lawyer about it last month, trying to see if anything could be done about it. This isn't supposed to happen. She's looking into it."

"I hope you can resolve this. You don't need the trouble."

"Yeah. Tell me about it." Jack changed the subject. "When was the last time you flew anywhere?"

Rose thought for a moment. "It was in 1999, when Mom let me go to Philadelphia by myself to visit my grandparents—Dad's parents. I spent three weeks with them that summer before going home. It was much nicer than being at home, because Dad was sick and Mom was always yelling about something. Grandma and Grandpa actually got along with each other, and they were in better health than Dad."

"It was nice meeting them when they flew out in April."

"Yeah. I hadn't seen them in almost four years. Grandpa was so funny when he learned about our baby, hobbling around with Grandma and making her squeal."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Rose laughed. "Who, me?"

"Yeah, you." He tickled her, making her squeal in surprise. "See what I mean?"

"I'll get you for that." Rose turned to retaliate, but they had finally reached the front of the line. They handed over their suitcases, which were X-rayed and run through a metal detector, and their carry-on luggage was inspected, including Rose's purse. Then they had to walk through a metal detector themselves.

"It feels like I'm going to jail," Jack complained when he walked through the metal detector, grumbling to himself when it detected the steel plate in his head and went off.

"I know." Rose giggled as her baby gave a hard kick to the security officer checking her to be sure her swollen belly really contained a baby and not weapons. "The baby doesn't like it either."

"Sometimes I think they're going a little overboard."

"Only a little?"

"Well..."

Rose laughed, linking arms with him as they went to wait for their plane. "When was the last time you flew?"

"That was in the winter of 1995. Mom and Dad took their vacations at the time of Christmas break, and we left the cold of Wisconsin and went to the Bahamas for a week."

"That must have been fun."

"It was. It was also the first time I had ever been out of the country. The only other countries I've been to, besides the United States, are Canada and Mexico. Canada and Wisconsin share a border, so it wasn't too difficult to go there, though I didn't stay for long, and I've been to Mexico a few times since I came to the southwest."

The call came for them to board their plane, and Jack got up, helping Rose out of her chair. Awkwardly, she walked beside him as they joined the line of people waiting to board.

Once on the plane, they found their seats in coach. By some good fortune, they had window seats, though Rose opted to sit on the aisle so that she could move about more easily. Her swollen middle made it difficult to squeeze past people, especially in the jammed coach section.

Fastening her seatbelt around her middle, Rose settled back. Jack gave her a smile and squeezed her hand as the plane took off.

*****

Jack's good mood slowly vanished as they moved closer to their destination. It was a five-hour flight, and as they moved to the northeast, he became increasingly anxious. By the time Minneapolis came into view in the distance, he was ready to get on the next plane back to California.

Rose laid a comforting hand on his arm. "Are you still worried about coming home?"

Jack looked at her and sighed. "A little. It has been a long time—over eight years now. I can't help but wonder what people will think of me—if they even remember me."

"Some will remember you, I'm sure. Your cousin Emmaline will be glad to see you."

"If I get a chance to see her. Uncle William would have a fit if he knew I was in town."

"Let him have a fit. You have as much right as anyone to be in Chippewa Falls. You grew up there."

"I guess it's a good idea to visit again...I hope so, anyway."

Rose reached for his hand. "It's going to be fine," she told him, giving him a reassuring smile.

Jack smiled and nodded, but as the plane began its descent, he wasn't so sure that this trip was a good idea.


	71. Homecoming 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-One

It was early afternoon in Minneapolis when the plane landed. After collecting their luggage, Jack rented a car and piled everything in, driving them to the motel in Chippewa Falls that he had made reservations at.

He took his time bringing their luggage in and putting it in the room, delaying going out as long as possible. Rose offered to help with the luggage, but he refused, telling her to rest. She knew why he was putting things off, so she let him take it at his own pace.

Finally, there was nothing left to do. Looking around to see if anything had been left undone, he got the keys to the rental car. He and Rose set out into the town.

*****

Their first stop, as Jack knew it had to be, was the cemetery. Although he hadn't been to Chippewa Falls in over eight years, he still knew where everything was located. It was only a short drive to the cemetery, one that passed all too quickly.

Parking nearby, he took the keys from the ignition, but couldn't bring himself to leave the car. Putting the keys in his pocket, he rested his hands on the steering wheel, reluctant to leave the vehicle and confront his past.

"Are you worried about seeing your parents' grave again?" Rose asked, turning from where she was sitting in the passenger seat.

Jack was silent for a moment. At last, he spoke.

"Yes. I haven't even been to Chippewa Falls in more than eight years, let alone to the cemetery. I'm really not looking forward to seeing that grave again. It's not that I don't want to...to pay my respects...but I don't want to see where they were buried. It's too…real."

Rose didn't need to ask what he meant. She knew.

"Jack, you've been thinking about them ever since Daniel was born, and even more since you found out I'm pregnant. I think that you need to visit that grave, or you'll never stop beating yourself up over it."

Jack nodded reluctantly, recognizing the wisdom of her words, but still dreading the sight of the lonely grave. Slowly, he got out of the car, coming around to the other side to help Rose out.

They walked in silence through the cemetery. In spite of not having been there in eight years, Jack knew exactly where the grave was located. The memory of it was burned into his mind like the fire that had killed the people inside it.

He walked slowly at first, Rose beside him, then walked faster and faster, until Rose was almost running to keep up with him.

"Jack, wait!" she gasped, trying to keep up. He stopped abruptly at one of the graves and she almost ran into him.

He stood looking at it for a moment before he spoke. The grave was well-kept, the grass around it mowed and free of weeds. The headstone was upright and clean, in spite of being left alone so long.

Rose looked at the grave of her in-laws, seeing how young they were when they had died. Paul Dawson had been forty years old, Elizabeth Dawson thirty-five—much too young to have died, leaving a teenage son behind.

Jack put an arm around Rose, pulling her close, as much for his own comfort as for hers. Slowly, he spoke to his parents.

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. I've been gone a long time now. It's been over eight years since I've been here." He paused, swallowing hard, then introduced Rose. "This is Rose Dawson, my wife. She's one of the most warm, loving people I have ever met. Rose is a very special person, and I'm lucky to have found her. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. If you'd had a chance to know her, you would have loved her, too." Rose put her arms around him. "Mom...Dad...you're going to be grandparents. I know you always wanted more children, but at least you'll have grandchildren—more than one, if Rose and I have our way about it. This is our first. She should be born in about a month. She's healthy, and we're looking forward to her birth."

He fell silent for a moment, staring down at the grave. When he spoke again, his voice was choked. "Mom...Dad...I know I've done some bad things in my life, but I've shaped up. I don't do them anymore. I just hope you can forgive me for being so stupid. I'm sorry for all the hurtful things I've done." His voice broke.

Slipping from Rose's embrace, he knelt down before the headstone, tears running down his face. "Oh, Mom...Dad...I'm so sorry for what I said before you died. I don't hate you, and I never have. Please forgive me. I didn't mean it."

He knelt there for several minutes, his expression distant as some far-off memory went through his mind. Finally, Rose sank down beside him, pulling a tissue from her purse. She handed it to him, sitting beside him as he wiped his eyes and tried to calm down. After a moment, he told her what he had said to them before they died.

"I had been out setting off firecrackers with some other kids in the neighborhood. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but it was too much fun to pass up." He smiled slightly at the memory. "What wasn't fun was when Dad drove by and caught me at it. He pulled over, hauled me into the car, and drove me home. When we got home, he yelled at me about the dangers of firecrackers, and then grounded me for two weeks. Mom agreed with him once she heard what I'd been doing. I got mad and yelled that I hated them, then stomped up the stairs to my room to sulk." He sighed, a long, shuddering breath. "That was the last thing I ever said to them. The fire happened that night, and only I escaped." His eyes overflowed again. "They died thinking that I hated them. But I didn't hate them, not really. I was just angry at them for spoiling my fun."

Rose was silent for a moment, thinking. She put her arms around him, leaning close.

"Jack, I'm willing to bet that they didn't believe that you hated them. Kids say dumb things sometimes, especially when they're mad. I've told Mom that I hate her on a few occasions, but I don't, really. We don't exactly get along, but I don't hate her, and I think she knows it. Your mom and dad probably knew, too."

"I still wish my last words to them had been something nicer, like 'I love you', or even 'thank you'. I hate you is a terrible thing to say, especially when it's the last words you ever say to someone you love." He wiped his eyes. "Do you really think they knew that I didn't hate them?"

"I think they understood. Parents know that sometimes kids say things they don't really mean."

At that moment, a shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, shining down on the young couple sitting by the grave. Jack and Rose looked up at it wonderingly. Rose reached for Jack's hand, squeezing it lovingly.

"I think they forgive you."


	72. Homecoming 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Two

After they left the cemetery, Jack showed Rose around Chippewa Falls. Visiting his parents' grave had been a great comfort, but he had one more stop to make before he would truly be at peace with himself.

"This was where I lived, growing up," Jack told Rose, pulling to stop in front of a new-looking house in an old neighborhood. The owners of the house weren't home, so he got out of the car, standing at the edge of the sidewalk and looking at the place where he had grown up.

Rose stood beside him. The blackened remains of Jack's childhood home were gone, long since replaced by a new house. It looked almost out of place in the weathered neighborhood, the bright new roof and walls standing out against the mellow, well-lived-in houses that made up the rest of the neighborhood.

Jack stood quietly, looking at the place where he had spent his childhood. Nothing was the same. The old house was gone, of course, burned down in the fire that had taken his parents' lives, but nothing else was as he remembered it, either. The wildflower garden, of which his father had been so proud, had been replaced by a smooth, green lawn. His mother's rose bushes and climbing vines had been replaced by young shrubs and annual flowers. If he hadn't remembered the neighborhood so vividly, he might have believed that he was in the wrong place.

But it was the right place. As Jack gazed at the yard, he saw the one thing that was left from the years that he had lived there—a tall, sturdy oak tree. It had been charred by the fire, but only on the branches nearest to the house. Now, it was neatly pruned, the leaves still summer green. The old, decaying tree house he had played in had been replaced by a new one with a sturdy ladder leading up to it. Children's toys were scattered around the base of the tree, and a brightly colored bird feeder hung not far from the platform in the tree.

As he stood, looking at his old home, Rose put an arm around his waist and stood beside him. The sight didn't mean as much to her as it did to Jack—she had never been here before—but she understood what it meant to him. Here was the place where he had grown up, a place he hadn't seen in over eight years—and it was nothing like he remembered it. She could only imagine what was going through his mind.

Jack stood silently for a long time, looking at his childhood home. His gaze took in the new house, the neatly kept lawn and garden, and, most of all, the tree house where a new generation of children now played.

At last, he turned to Rose, and she was surprised to see a smile on his face. "I think I'm ready to go now," he told her, and she smiled back, knowing exactly what he meant.

*****

For the rest of the afternoon, Jack and Rose explored Chippewa Falls. There had been some changes since Jack had been there, new houses built and new people living in the area, but for the most part it was still the small Midwestern town he remembered.

Driving slowly through the streets that he still remembered, Jack showed Rose his elementary school, the middle school he had attended, and even the high school were he had been a student his freshman year. Getting out of the car, they walked around the now-deserted campus. It was late in the day and everyone had gone home, but he was still able to show some things to her.

With a touch of pride, Jack showed Rose the gym where he had practiced when he had been on the junior varsity basketball team in high school. He had been one of the top players, and might have gone far had he not left after his freshman year.

"It looks like a pretty good high school," Rose commented, looking around as he showed her where he had taken classes and the places where the students had gathered.

"I wish I could have stayed," Jack responded. "It was the first of four high schools that I went to. Ironically enough, after all that, I never graduated from high school. I earned my GED in juvenile hall."

Rose squeezed his hand. "Give it a couple of years, and you'll graduate from community college. That's a much bigger deal than high school. Besides, at least you got your education, even if it was a bit unconventional. I'm willing to bet that a lot of the kids in juvenile hall with you never got their GEDs."

Jack laughed. "You're right. Most didn't, at least not then. Some of them, when they get older and more mature, will probably get them, but some just didn't care, or didn't see the point. Why get your education when you can make more money selling drugs or something than you could get with a regular job, which is hard to get after spending time in jail anyway?"

They had returned to the car by this time, and it was beginning to get dark. "You're one of a kind, Jack," Rose told him, wiggling awkwardly into her seat. "You've got a good heart, even if you did go the wrong direction for a while. I love you."

"I love you, too, Rose."

*****

As the sun set, Jack showed Rose a few more places around the town—the supermarket where his parents had bought groceries, memorable to him because he had once accidentally knocked over a huge display of eggs, much to the disgust of his mother and the store manager; the restaurant where his parents' had shared their last anniversary, bringing him along with them for the first time; and the fast food restaurant where he and his friends had hung out once they got to high school. It was a long distance from where any of them had lived or gone to school, but there had always been some parent or elder sibling to shuttle the group around town.

"I wonder if any of the high school kids still hang out here," Jack wondered as he parked the car and got out. "Some kids said that people who hung out here were dorks, but I never cared. They weren't worth listening to, anyway."

"What say we go in and find out? I'm getting hungry anyway. I think it's about time for dinner."

Jack glanced at his watch. "You're right. It is. I hadn't even noticed."

After they ordered their food and found a table to sit at, Rose asked Jack if he was glad he had come back to Chippewa Falls.

"Are you glad we visited, Jack? I know it must be hard, but..."

"It is a little hard to come back here, with all the memories and all. But I think this trip was a good idea. I'm a lot more at peace since I visited Mom and Dad's grave and looked at the old property."

"You seem more at peace, less anxious. And I've enjoyed seeing your hometown." Rose looked past him at a teenage girl sitting in a booth at the back of the restaurant, staring at Jack as though trying to place him. Rose tapped on his arm to get his attention.

"Jack, who is that?"

"Who?"

"That girl who's staring at you. The one with the straight blonde hair and bright purple fingernails."

Jack turned to look, his eyes lighting up as he recognized her. Pushing his food aside, he got to his feet.

The girl recognized him at the same time and got up from her table, leaving her friends behind.

"Jack!"

"Emmaline!"

The two cousins hugged, leaving Emmaline's friends and Rose staring in confusion.

"You're back!" Emmaline exclaimed. "I never thought you would come back to Chippewa Falls, especially since Dad still doesn't like you. Are you here permanently, or just visiting?"

"Just visiting. I'm on vacation from work. Emmaline, this is my wife, Rose."

"Oh, yes. You e-mailed me some of your wedding pictures." She turned to Rose. "I'm Emmaline Dawson, Jack's cousin."

"I'm Rose." Rose wiggled out of the booth, standing a bit awkwardly.

"Hey, cool! You're going to have a baby! When is it due?"

"October first," Rose told her, liking Jack's exuberant cousin immediately.

"I love babies. I want to have a lot of them someday."

"Finish high school first, Emmaline," Jack warned her. "Don't be like your brother and wind up being a parent before you're a graduate."

"I won't, I won't. You know me better than that." She shrugged. "Anyway, I'll have a new cousin. You'll have to send me pictures, and if you get a chance to visit here again, bring the baby. I want to meet it."

Emmaline's friends had come over to them, curious about what was going on. With a smile, she introduced them.

"Jack, Rose, this is my best friend, Sarah, and her brother James. James is my boyfriend," she added, linking arms with him. "Sarah, James, this is my cousin, Jack, and his wife, Rose."

"Is he the one your dad hates?" Sarah asked, looking at Jack curiously.

"Yes, but Dad doesn't know what he's talking about. Jack's a perfectly nice guy." She raised a teasing eyebrow at her best friend. "He's also taken, so don't flirt with him."

"Yeah," James added, unable to resist teasing his little sister. "Or Emmaline will paint you for her next modern art project."

Sarah punched him in the arm, while Jack laughed at the teenagers.

"Last time I saw you, Emmaline, you thought boys were gross," Jack teased his cousin, watching as she sidled up against her boyfriend.

"Hey, there's a big difference between seven and fifteen," Emmaline pointed out. "Besides, James is a senior."

"Yeah, he's real grown-up," Sarah teased, earning a glare from her brother.

"Hey, Jack, Rose. Why don't you come and sit with us?" Emmaline asked. "There's plenty of room. I want to know what you've been doing. You just don't hear enough through the e-mail."

Jack looked at Rose for her reaction. She glanced at Emmaline and her friends, then smiled, nodded, and picked up her tray, following them to the other table. Jack walked with her, carrying his own meal, as they sat down with Jack's cousin, ready for an evening of talking and sharing stories.


	73. Homecoming 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Three

_Thursday, September 2, 2004_

Jack, Rose, and Emmaline met at a small park the following afternoon after Emmaline got out of school. She wanted to show her cousin and his wife her artwork, but didn't dare to invite them home. Her father probably wouldn't be home until at least 5:30, but there was no use in taking chances. William Dawson intensely disliked his nephew and would have been livid had he known that Jack was back in town.

Emmaline brought a sampling of what she considered to be her best work. Her father didn't approve of her interest, but he rarely interfered, either. He would have been furious if he had known that Emmaline exchanged art information through e-mail with Jack, but she had been wise enough never to tell him. He undoubtedly would have found a way to block Jack's e-mail without her knowledge.

Jack and Rose were waiting when she arrived. They were sitting on a bench, alternately eating popcorn and tossing handfuls to the grateful birds who had gathered around them, enjoying the unexpected treat. Jack had one hand on Rose's swollen middle and they were laughing at some private joke.

Jack got up when he saw his cousin approaching. "Emmaline! Over here!" he called, directing her attention to them.

Emmaline hurried over, hitching up the straps of her backpack, where she carried her artwork. Jack moved over, allowing her to sit between himself and Rose, who had also shown an interest in Emmaline's work.

Emmaline opened her bag, withdrawing a folder containing several drawings. As Jack and Rose looked at them, she also removed an unframed painting wrapped in brown paper and an odd-looking mug she had made in a ceramics class.

"So what do you think?" she asked after a minute, looking at Jack for his reaction.

"These are really good, especially this drawing of the old lady in the bar. How exactly did you get into a bar?"

Emmaline shrugged. "I have a fake ID."

Jack shook his head. "Emmaline, do everyone a favor and stay out of trouble. I had a friend with a fake green card, and he almost got caught a couple of times."

"I just drink a little beer once in a while. It doesn't hurt anything."

"You hope. Just don't let your dad catch you. He'll smack you good."

Emmaline just shrugged, dismissing the subject. "What do you think of the mug I made?"

"It's...different."

"It doesn't hold water. I already tried. I called it 'Cracked'."

Rose laughed at this. "'Cracked' is a good name for it," she said, examining the mug. It looked almost ready to fall apart.

"It's modern art," Emmaline defended. "I made it that way on purpose, only it's more cracked since I tried to put tea in it."

Jack and Rose both laughed, but were interrupted by a sudden, angry shout.

"Emmaline Jane Dawson! What the hell are you doing?"

Emmaline looked up, startled, then shrunk back when she saw her father coming toward them.

"What are you doing here?" William Dawson demanded of Jack, forgetting about his daughter for a moment.

Jack looked at him steadily. "I'm visiting my old town."

"You don't belong here."

"Says who?" Jack's voice was growing belligerent.

"You're nothing but a shitty little punk. You don't belong with decent people."

"Dad!" Emmaline cringed, looking at him. "Don't talk like that."

"Shut up, girl! This doesn't concern you."

"It does, too!" Emmaline jumped up. "Jack's my cousin, and I was just showing him my artwork—"

"I told you to shut up!" William shoved her back down on the bench. "I'll deal with you later."

Jack got up, standing nose to nose with his uncle. He was a couple of inches taller than him, though much lankier. The two men were almost evenly matched.

"Don't you push her around."

"Don't tell me how to raise my daughter, punk. Get out of town before I make you sorry you came here."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a promise."

"Don't threaten me, Uncle William. I'm not a kid that you can push around."

"You're right. You're an ex-con who can't be trusted."

"He can be trusted," Rose interjected, jumping to Jack's defense.

William looked at her. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Rose Dawson. Jack's wife."

"So, he conned you into marriage. And a few other things, too." He eyed her swollen belly derisively.

"Shut up, you asshole!" Jack was losing his temper. He gave his uncle a shove.

William punched him, sending him stumbling backward a few steps before he recovered. Running a hand over his bleeding lip, Jack was about to retaliate when Rose and Emmaline intervened.

Rose grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him back, away from his uncle. Emmaline grabbed her father's arm, only to be shoved away again. She fell hard on the sidewalk, her 'Cracked' art project shattering on the concrete.

"Dad! Look what you did!"

"It wasn't worth anything anyway."

"I worked hard on that, but you never care how hard I work, just because it's not what you're into! I hate you!" She burst into tears, looking at the shattered remains of her project.

"Shut up, or I'll give you something to cry about."

"You'll smack me anyway. I might as well make it worthwhile."

Jack tried to move away from Rose, but she refused to let go of his arm. A small crowd was gathering, attracted by the disturbance.

"Leave him be, Jack. You've barely been in town for twenty-four hours. The last thing you need is to get arrested for disturbing the peace."

Jack finally succeeded in freeing himself from her grip, but did not approach his uncle again. The two men glared hatefully at each other, both gazes filled with loathing.

"You Goddamned little punk," William spat, glowering at his nephew. "They should never have let you out of prison."

"It was juvenile hall, not prison, and I served my time."

"Your sentence was too lenient. Bleeding heart liberals."

"You're lucky that there are bleeding heart liberals, as you call them, in the world. If I had my way, I'd see you locked up." Jack looked at Emmaline, who was slowly gathering up the shattered remains of her mug. "Don't hit Emmaline again, Uncle William. I mean it. She might not say anything to anyone, but I will if I ever find out you've been shoving her around again. I'm sick of people who think it's okay to hurt others. It's no damned wonder Tom and Eric left as soon as they had the chance. I'm glad you didn't take me in after Mom and Dad died. I was better off in foster care and juvenile hall."

"You belong in prison."

"No, he doesn't," Rose broke in. "He served his time and stays out of trouble. I heard about you from one of our roommates, Helga. She described you as being unforgiving and thoroughly unpleasant—and that was just judging from a phone conversation. I can see now that she was right."

"And did you know about your husband's background? Or did he pretend to be some pleasant, charming individual?" William's voice was sarcastic.

"He told about his past—right from the start. He was never anything but honest about it."

"You're a fool, then. Do you really think he's stayed out of trouble all these years?"

"I know he has."

"You don't know him like I do."

Rose looked at William levelly. "You're right. You don't know him at all. You know only what a few old court records say. I know him for who he really is—a kind, caring, loving man. I pity you, Mr. Dawson. You can't see people for who they are. You're so narrow-minded that you attack your nephew for visiting his old hometown after eight years away. You can't even see the worth of your own children. I find it hard to believe that Jack is any relation to you, except for the fact that you look so similar. You're a narrow-minded, heartless person, and I wish I'd never met you."

Rose turned away, going to help Emmaline clean up the mess. William stared after her in shock. Few people had the courage to speak to him that way. Only his brother, Paul, his nephew, Jack, and now Jack's wife, Rose, had ever put him in his place that way. His own wife, Megan, had put up with him for years before leaving him and their children. Tom had left as soon as he turned eighteen, and Eric had gotten a girl pregnant and married her at seventeen. Emmaline rarely spoke to him at all, preferring to hide from his bad temper.

He turned and stalked up the sidewalk. _To hell with all of them_, he thought.

He knew that he was right, that he was justified in his dislike of his nephew. He had never been fond of his brother, Jack's father, either, and the lifelong rivalry between the two brothers hadn't stopped with Paul's death. It had simply shifted to Paul's son, but William had never considered it that way. He had never stopped to think why he so disliked his nephew—and had even before Jack had gotten into trouble and spent time in juvenile hall.

William Dawson had always succeeded in alienating those around him, but had never stopped to consider that his own attitude and behavior might be the cause. As far as he was concerned, most of the people he knew were against him for no reason besides their own selfishness.

Jack and Rose watched him walk away as the crowd began to disperse. Emmaline started to toss the pieces of her mug into the trash, then reconsidered, deciding to use them for another project.

"Emmaline." She looked up as her cousin spoke to her. "If Uncle William keeps shoving or smacking you around, I want you to tell me. I won't let him beat on you that way."

"I don't think you have to worry," Emmaline replied shakily. "He won't do anything after you threatened to say something. He's afraid of you, you know."

"Afraid of me? Why?"

"He knows you've been all over the place, and he thinks you have some connections. He's kind of paranoid that way. He won't hurt me. He thinks you can do something about it."

Jack's eyes widened in surprise. He had never considered that his uncle might have some kind of fear of him. He had always assumed that William Dawson's hatred of him was based solely on his imperfect past.

"Be careful, Emmaline," he told her. "Your father has a bad temper."

"I know," she said, looking at the pieces of her mug. "When he starts getting really mad I go and stay with Sarah or someone. I can take care of myself."

"All the same, let me know what happens. Oh, and stay away from the beer. It isn't good for you."

She grimaced. "You sound like Dad."

"For once, I agree with him. Don't drink. You're too young." He handed her the backpack. "You'd better get going before your dad gets any madder."

"I know." She gave him a hug. "How long are you two staying?"

"Until Saturday morning. Then we're flying back to California. Why don't you stop by our motel when you get out of school tomorrow? It's only a few blocks from the high school."

"Sure. I'll be there. Want me to bring some more of my artwork?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"I'd like to see it, too," Rose added. "You're both very good artists. It must run in the family."

"Grandpa was a good artist, too," Emmaline told her. "He taught me to draw when I was about six, just before he died. He taught Jack a lot of stuff, too." She looked down the street, noticing that it was beginning to get dark. "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't mind about Dad. He's never liked you anyway, so what he thinks doesn't matter."

Swinging her pack onto her back, she hurried down the darkening street. Rose watched her go.

"She's a lot like you," she told Jack. "A survivor."

"We Dawsons tend to be."

"Yes," she agreed, wrapping her arms around him. "We do."


	74. Homecoming 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Four

_Saturday, September 4, 2004_

On Saturday morning, Jack and Rose boarded a plane back to California. They arrived early to make sure they would be on time for their flight, but even so it took a long time for them to get settled on the plane.

There were the usual security precautions, but this time, after the metal detector was set off by the steel plate that Jack had in his head, he was detained for a short time while Rose was sent ahead. After being put in a room by himself, searched, and checked over with a handheld metal detector to be sure that he wasn't concealing any weapons in odd places, Jack was finally allowed to join Rose and board the plane, though he grumbled in aggravation at the experience.

When they finally boarded the plane, they were once again seated in a window section. Rose wanted an aisle seat, but the third person in their row, a businessman, insisted that he needed the aisle seat for the sake of comfort. Rose finally let him have his way, although he complained every time she squeezed her pregnant body past him to use the restroom.

But at last Jack and Rose settled into their seats. As the plane took off down the runway, Rose sighed and squeezed Jack's hand.

"Are you ready to go home?" she asked him, turning slightly to look at him.

Jack nodded. "I'm ready. It was good to visit Chippewa Falls, but Masline is home now." He settled back into his seat, looking far more relaxed now than he had when they had first flown to Chippewa Falls.

"I enjoyed this trip, Jack. It was nice to see the town where you grew up. I'd never really been to the Midwest before, just flown over it. Chippewa Falls is a nice town. It looks like a good place to grow up."

"It was. I liked it there, though sometimes I really wanted to leave and see the rest of the world."

"You have seen a lot of it now."

"Not quite in the way I expected when I was a kid, but yeah, I have."

"I enjoyed meeting the people you grew up with, your old friends and teachers and such. The only person I didn't care much for was your Uncle William. No offense," she added.

"I don't like him much, either," Jack admitted. "But I still don't really understand why he resents me so much. It's like he sees me as a threat, or a reminder of something bad, though I really don't know what. He really doesn't like me now, but he didn't like me much when I was a kid, either. Back then, though, I was too busy running around and playing with my cousins to really pay attention to the fact that he didn't like me. I think I was really too young to notice much. I don't why he is the way he is, but maybe someday I'll learn enough to understand. I might never learn to like him, but maybe I'll understand him better."

Rose settled back into her seat. "It's strange, though, how Emmaline is so different from him. Is she much like her mother?"

"A little bit, maybe, though I think she's stronger than Aunt Megan ever was. She's a Dawson through and through, even if she doesn't act much like her father. She's got a strong spirit and a good heart. Besides, a person's parents don't always have kids that act just like them. You're not much like your mother."

Rose nodded, conceding the point. She put her hands on her swollen middle. The baby moved under her touch, kicking out at her hands.

"It's hard to believe we're related to people like my mother and your uncle. I hope this baby doesn't act too much like them."

"It's also related to us, and Emmaline, and your grandparents. Besides, with you for a mother, how could it grow up to be anything less than loving and caring?"

Rose just smiled, squeezing his hand and putting her head on his shoulder as the plane headed west.


	75. A New Arrival 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Five

_Sunday, September 19, 2004_

Rose pulled into a parking space near the supermarket. Awkwardly, she wiggled out from behind the wheel and got out of the car.

The baby was due in less than two weeks, and she couldn't wait. She wanted to hold her child in her arms and care for it. Beyond that, she wanted her body back. She had been inhabited by this kicking, squirming creature for nearly nine months, and was more than ready to bring it into the world.

Sighing, Rose walked slowly across the parking lot to the supermarket entrance, stopping to pick up a cart on the way. She didn't really want to go shopping, but it was her week to cook, so she had to pick up groceries.

Pushing the cart ahead of her, Rose walked through the store, keeping an eye out for bargains. There was less money now that she wasn't working, though the money Helga paid her to watch Daniel did help. There were more mouths to feed now, too, now that Daniel was old enough to eat solid foods. Helga had offered to simply buy all of Daniel's food herself, but the others still picked up food for the child. He was adored by all four adults.

When she had everything she needed, Rose joined a checkout line. Rubbing her back, she didn't notice the woman in the line behind her until she spoke.

"Rose!"

Rose turned, startled, to see Ruth staring at her. "Mom!"

Ruth shook her head, staring at Rose's swollen middle. "I'd hoped you'd have better sense."

"About what?" Rose frowned, confused.

"About getting pregnant at this point in your life. How are you going to finish college and launch a career with a baby?"

"The same way other women do, but I'm lucky enough to have a good husband to help."

"I'm sure." Ruth looked her over. "You didn't tell me you were pregnant."

"Would you have cared?"

"Of course I care!"

"About me and the granddaughter I'm going to give you in a couple of weeks, or about the fact that the baby changes my career plans, not that I really know yet what I want to do?"

"I've told you time and again how having a child at the wrong time can mess up your life. I've told you that since you were a teenager, but you never did listen."

"I listened, Mom. Obviously, I didn't get pregnant until after I was married, and I'm not a child. I'm twenty years old, and I'm ready to be a mother."

"And what about your husband? What does he think of all this? Was it his idea?"

"Jack is as excited about the baby as I am. And actually, this wasn't planned by either of us. It just sort of happened."

"You're old enough to know about birth control."

"I know about birth control. I also know that it doesn't always work." Rose was growing irritated. "Now, are you going to keep on yelling at me for getting pregnant, or are you going to accept the granddaughter I'm going to give you?"

"Rose...of course I accept your child. After all, it is my first grandchild. I just think you should have waited for a better time."

"Nature didn't want to wait, and the only way I could have prevented this baby from being born once it was conceived was to abort it. And I couldn't do that. I wanted this baby from the moment I knew it was there, and I don't think I could bring myself to get rid of any child, convenient or not. This is my daughter." She patted her belly, feeling the baby move under her hand.

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," Ruth told her stiffly.

"Only if you mean it."

"Rose..."

"Mom, no matter what I do, you manage to find fault with it. Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical about your congratulations over the baby, but I already know your opinion about my having a child, and I know you aren't too fond of my husband. So if you don't really mean it, please don't say it."

"Rose..." Ruth sighed. "Very well. I can see you're not going to believe me, so I won't say it."

"Mom..." Rose turned away, not allowing Ruth to see how hurt she was. "Thank you for being honest, at least."

She was about to say more, but she had reached the front of the line. Pulling out the checkbook, she paid for her groceries, then looked to see if her mother was still behind her, but Ruth had moved to another line.

Rose looked around for her, catching her eye briefly as she moved toward the doors, but Ruth quickly looked away. Shaking her head, Rose left the store, wondering if there would ever be a time when she and her mother could understand one another.


	76. A New Arrival 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Six

_Thursday, September 30, 2004_

Rose looked up as the doorbell rang. Setting Daniel's food aside, she left the baby in his high chair while she went to see who was at the door.

A UPS delivery man stood at the door, an oversized box beside him. "I have a package for Jack and Rose Dawson," he told her, gesturing to the box and holding out the electronic clipboard for her to sign.

Rose signed it quickly, wondering what it was. _I haven't ordered anything recently, so it must be something for Jack, _she thought, wondering why it was in both their names. Shrugging to herself, she handed the clipboard back and looked at the package.

"Could you please push it in here?" she asked the man. She didn't think she could carry something so large, especially not with her protruding middle.

He nodded, opening the screen door and wheeling the package inside. Rose directed him to put it by the table, then thanked him. He nodded and hurried on his way.

Daniel screeched, banging his fists on the high chair tray. Giving Rose a grin that showed his new tooth, he tried to reach for the dish she had set out of his reach. Rose hurried back to resume feeding him. Daniel was usually given dinner around five o'clock, before everyone else came home. At dinner, he sat in the high chair beside his mother, who would slip him baby-sized bits of food or allow him to chew on a teething cracker.

Rose dipped the spoon back into the small amount of food, offering it to the baby. Daniel opened his mouth, allowing her to put the spoon inside, then spit half of the food out. Rose quickly cleaned him up and tried again.

Giving her a melting smile, he reached for the dish again, then frowned when she moved it out of his reach. He couldn't break the dish—it was plastic—but his attempts to feed himself usually meant that most of the food had to be mopped up off the floor, since the eight-and-a-half month old baby tended to drop things. Rose sometimes let him hold the spoon and try to put the food in his mouth, but he usually wound up spilling the food on himself, the floor, or the tray. Plastic wasn't too difficult to clean, but Rose would just as soon avoid the mess. If baby food wasn't cleaned up quickly enough, it dried into a thick, disgusting mass that had to scraped and soaked off.

Rose spooned the last of the strained squash into Daniel's mouth, then removed his bib and carried him to the kitchen sink to be cleaned up. After wiping the squash and rice off of his hands, face, and hair, she carried him into the living room and set him in his playpen, giving him a ring of brightly colored teething keys to keep him busy while she cleaned up.

_At least,_ Rose thought as she washed the plastic dish, baby spoon, and high chair tray, _taking care of Daniel has prepared me for taking care of my own baby._ She knew how to feed a baby, change diapers, play games to keep the baby entertained, soothe a sick or fretful infant, and keep an eye on the baby while getting other things done. Daniel was usually easy enough to care for—he was a calm baby for the most part, though when he was cranky everyone knew it. He liked her, too, smiling and waving his arms when she went to pick him up.

When she was finished cleaning, Rose quickly warmed a bottle of formula and brought it to him, watching as he got a grip on the bottle and brought it to his mouth. Helga still nursed him, but she had to work during the day, so Daniel had learned to drink formula. He hadn't liked it at first, but when he got hungry enough he took it, and had eventually gotten used to it.

Rose glanced at the clock. It was nearly 5:30, so the others would be back soon. She smiled as Daniel dropped the bottle and got his hands on the plastic keys, waving them around and grinning at the rattling sound they made. Putting them in his mouth, he rolled over, managing to push himself into a sitting position.

He dropped the keys when the front door opened, turning his head toward the sound. A moment later, Helga came around the corner, setting her purse aside and scooping up the infant, who gave her a delighted grin and cooed.

"How was work?" Rose asked, watching Helga make faces at Daniel. The baby giggled, putting his head on his mother's shoulder.

"It was fine. It's so nice to work in a doctor's office instead of the hospital. Less running around and more time with this little angel." She bounced Daniel up and down, making him laugh more.

"Your little angel tried to teethe on an electric cord this morning. He scooted across the floor and started chewing on it before I knew what was happening."

"You do have to watch him, especially at this age. Everything goes in the mouth, and everything is worth examining. He tasted some Vaseline last week."

"Wait until he learns to walk."

"That reminds me." Helga set Daniel back in the playpen and picked up her purse, pulling a bag from it. "I got some locks to put on the cabinets. Daniel's moving around now, and there'll be another baby here soon, so I thought it would be a good idea to try to childproof the doors. I'll put the locks on tonight, before Daniel has a chance to try tasting cleanser or medicine."

The front door opened again, and Jack called to Rose. "Rose! I'm home! Where are you?"

"I'm in here, Jack." She waddled around the corner, into the kitchen. "You got something from UPS today."

"I did? That's odd. I didn't order anything."

"Let's see if it's ticking," Rose joked, squatting down and putting an ear to the box. "Nope. Not ticking."

Jack brought a knife over and sliced open the tape. "Did you look for a return address?"

"Not yet." Rose examined the box, wondering who had sent it to them. Upon seeing the return address, she frowned. "It's from my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Yes. I wonder what she could be sending. I thought I'd gotten everything from the house when I left a year and a half ago."

"Maybe it's something for the baby." Jack set the knife on the table and opened the box, removing the packing.

Rose shook her head. "No. She thinks I shouldn't have gotten pregnant. Why would she send anything for the baby?"

"This certainly looks like it's for the baby." Jack pulled a hooded, basket-like container from the box. Digging deeper, he removed a wooden frame to place it on.

"It's a bassinet!" Rose exclaimed, digging into the box and removing a thin mattress and several baby blankets.

Jack took an envelope from the basket, handing it to Rose. Curious, she opened it.

_Jack, Rose,_

_I congratulate you on the impending arrival of your firstborn. This bassinet was Rose's when she was an infant, and was her father's before that. Now, it is being passed on to a third generation. Rose, I know that you don't believe that I care about your coming child, but I do. Please let me know when she is born._

_Love,  
Ruth_

"I don't believe it!" Rose exclaimed. "I never would have thought she cared. She seemed so unconcerned about the baby. It seemed to me that she only cared about the fact that it would put a damper on my career plans. I'll have to thank her for this. I didn't know I slept in a bassinet as a baby. This is nice of her."

"When did you tell her you're pregnant?"

"I didn't. She saw me in the supermarket a couple of weeks ago and confronted me about it. Maybe I should have told her, but we so seldom get along..."

"Maybe there's more to her than you thought."

"Maybe. I'll have to tell her when the baby is born. Maybe she can be a real grandmother, even if we have trouble getting along."

*****

That night, Jack slipped into bed beside Rose. She was lying on her back reading, the book propped up on her belly. She set the book aside as he lay down beside her, pulling the covers up and trying to find a comfortable position.

"I am so sick of being pregnant," she complained, rubbing her back. "I want this baby born."

"You're due tomorrow, aren't you?" Jack asked, moving closer to her. "Here, roll over."

Rose did as he asked. "Yes. I just hope the baby comes on time."

"It won't be much longer," he assured her, rubbing her neck, shoulders, and back. "Even if it's late."

"I feel like I've been pregnant forever."

"Not quite." He massaged her lower back. "Your muscles are really tight."

"My back has been aching off and on since dinner," Rose told him, putting her head down on her pillow.

"Maybe it means you'll have it soon."

"I hope so." She looked at him. "I have a good idea."

"What?"

"Next time, _you_ carry the baby."

He chuckled. "I don't think that would work too well."

"Why not? Seahorses do it."

"We're not seahorses."

"How about you just carry it the second half?"

Jack laughed. "Trust me, Rose. If guys had to be pregnant and give birth, the species would die out."

Rose sighed, giving him a look of mock annoyance. "All right. I guess I'll have to be the strong one here."

"You're always strong." He lay down beside her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm a little...scared of being a mother. I mean, I'll have this baby to take of, and it'll be depending on me. What if I can't do it?"

"You can do it. Daniel loves you, so there's no reason why this one won't. Besides, you won't be doing this alone. I plan on being there every step of the way."

"I'm so lucky to have you. A lot of men think that taking care of children is just women's work, even though they contributed half to the child's existence."

"Was your dad like that?"

"No...but Cal was. I wouldn't have gotten much help from him if we'd had a baby."

"Aren't you lucky, then, that you didn't? I don't think much of him anyway."

"Me, neither." Rose turned back over, snuggling as close as she could. "Just a little while longer, and we'll have our own baby. In spite of everything, I'm not sorry."

"Neither am I." He pulled the covers up over them. "Good night, Rose. I love you."

Rose hugged him. "I love you, too."


	77. A New Arrival 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Seven

_Friday, October 1, 2004_

Rose waddled awkwardly into the backyard, carrying Daniel. As had become her habit since she had stopped working, she spent part of every morning working in the vegetable garden she and Helga had started the previous spring. Both had decided that they wanted their babies to have the best, most natural foods, but everyone had benefited from it.

Rose set Daniel in the outside pen Tommy had built for him when he started to scoot around, giving the baby a safe place to play while the adults did other things. It was situated in the shade of a scraggly maple tree, allowing just enough sunlight to keep the baby warm and content while protecting him from sunburn. Daniel would often stare contentedly out the slats of the wooden playpen, or examine anything that happened to come within reach.

Rose was glad to put him down. The boy was growing big and heavy, and her back was still aching, tightening more and more frequently as the hours went by. She knew by now that she was in labor, but didn't worry about it yet. The pains were a good forty-five minutes apart, so she had plenty of time before the baby would be born.

Rubbing her back, she picked up a large basket and a trowel and moved toward the vegetable garden, separated from the rest of the yard by grapevines that had been there for years. There was a wide space where the vines did not grow, closed off only by the maple tree, so she was able to keep an eye on Daniel as she worked.

Moving slowly, Rose stepped amongst the plants, picking tomatoes, green beans, and squash that still grew in the warm autumn weather. Some of the plants had finished their producing and been removed for winter planting, but there was still plenty of work to do.

Stopping occasionally to look back at Daniel, she moved amongst the rows, picking whatever was ripe. The baby watched her, grinning and cooing, then turned his attention to a bird that perched on the opposite wall of the playpen, just out of his reach.

Rose smiled, watching the baby, her thoughts turning to her own baby. In just a few more hours, she would be born. She and Jack would have a daughter of their own to love and bring up. Jack had promised to be there for the birth, not wanting to miss a minute of their child's life.

_It's sad,_ she thought, _that Daniel will never know his father._ How would Fabrizio have reacted to his tiny son? Everyone loved and adored the little boy, but Rose still thought it sad that he and his father would never meet, and she was glad that she and Jack would be raising their baby together.

Rose stopped, bending forward and holding her stomach as another contraction went through her abdomen. She glanced at her watch, calculating how long it had been since the last pain. Forty minutes. The pains were growing closer together.

At last, the contraction ended and Rose straightened up—just in time to see Daniel stuff something green and wiggling into his mouth.

"Daniel! No!" She hurried over to the baby, squatting down to see what he was trying to eat. "Open up. Let me see what you've got."

She pried the infant's mouth open, removing a half-crushed tomato hookworm from his mouth. "Icky! Daniel, that's icky. You don't want to eat that." She flung the dead pest across the yard, wondering what it had been doing in the grassy playpen instead of in the tomato vines. Maybe a bird had picked it up and dropped it.

Daniel stared at Rose for a moment, his mouth still hanging open. Then he let loose with an outraged wail that sent the birds scattering from the maple tree. Kicking his feet and waving his arms, he angrily protested the loss of his new toy.

Rose picked him up, patting his back, but the angry baby refused to be soothed. Howling, he struggled in her arms, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking.

Rose disentangled her hair from Daniel's grip, setting him on the sun-warmed grass and letting him scream until he calmed down. When at last he stopped wailing, she took a pair of old scissors from the basket and cut a length of green grapevine, one of Daniel's favorite teething toys. Picking him up, she helped him hold the length of damp vine, putting him against her shoulder and letting him chew on it. She rubbed the baby's back soothingly as he chewed, the worm forgotten.

"I know, Daniel. Your Aunt Rose is mean. But there's some things you just shouldn't eat. Worms are one of them. I tried to eat one when I was a baby, and Mom wouldn't let me have it, either, or so I'm told."

Daniel gurgled, waving the length of vine, before putting it back in his mouth. Settling him on her hip, Rose went into the garden to pick up her basket.

"Come on, baby boy. Let's go inside. You've gotten into enough trouble for one day."

*****

By late afternoon, Rose's contractions were about seven minutes apart. It would be time to go to the hospital soon, but she didn't need to leave immediately. There was time for Jack to get home and take her. In the meantime, she played with Daniel for a while, then set him in his high chair to feed him.

Daniel had been cranky all day, chewing on everything he could get into his mouth, as he usually did when teething. The tomato hookworm had only been the beginning of what he chewed on, and had stretched to include one of Jack's drawing pencils, carelessly left out where the baby could get it, and a strip of linoleum from the worn kitchen floor.

Rose had finally put Daniel in his playpen and given him a frozen teething toy to play with. He had chewed on it for a while, then fallen asleep in the bottom of the playpen, finally giving Rose some peace.

It was just a stage he was going through, but it was hard to deal with a teething baby while slowly laboring toward giving birth to another baby. Rose could hardly wait for Helga to get home so that she could hand the baby over to her.

Heating up some baby-sized portions of rice and strained pumpkin in the microwave, Rose sat down to feed Daniel, letting him play with the spoon while she heated the food. The child loved the sound of the spoon beating against the high chair tray, though it annoyed any adult within earshot no end.

Finally, Rose sat down to feed him. She managed to get him to eat the rice without a fuss—he liked rice—but feeding him the pumpkin was more difficult. He spit out half of it, and was more interested in trying to grab the brightly colored stuff than in eating it.

"It's no wonder you're not hungry," she told the baby sourly. "You've eaten everything you could get your hands on today."

Daniel just grinned at her, then reached for the plastic dish of pumpkin. Rose moved it out of his reach, then held her stomach as another contraction lanced through her.

Daniel took advantage of her distraction to beat his hands against the tray, splattering his fist into some spilled pumpkin and then smearing the squash on his face and hair.

"Daniel...you're lucky you're so cute," Rose told him, straightening and reaching for a damp cloth to wipe the baby's face. Daniel just opened his mouth, demanding more food. "Yes...very lucky." Rose spooned more pumpkin into his mouth, unable to help but laugh as he made a face and tried to spit it out. "No...you swallow it. It's good for you."

They both looked up as the front door opened. Helga came in, her purse swinging from her hand as she walked. Daniel squealed with delight and held his arms out to her.

"Daniel!" Helga set her purse down and came over to the baby, but stopped short of picking him up when she saw what a mess he was. "Look at you!" She pulled some baby wipes out and wiped his face off. "Are you giving your Aunt Rose a hard time?"

"He's teething again," Rose told her. "And he's chewing everything in sight. He tried to eat a tomato hookworm, a pencil, and the kitchen floor." She pointed to the spot where the loose linoleum had been removed.

"Batting a thousand today, huh?" Helga looked Daniel right in the face. "Let me see your mouth, Daniel." She felt the baby's gums. "Not much longer," she assured both Rose and the baby. "I can feel where the tooth is. You'll feel better soon," she cooed at Daniel, chucking him under the chin.

Daniel gave her a wide grin, showing off his few teeth. Helga patted him on the back.

"Let me put my stuff away and I'll finish feeding him," she told Rose, frowning as Rose set the dish of pumpkin on the edge of the tray and leaned forward, holding her middle. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rose gritted out. "Just having a baby, is all."

Daniel chose that moment to get his hands on the dish of strained pumpkin. Trying to pull it closer, he knocked it onto the floor, but not before grabbing a handful and trying to put it in his mouth. Most of it landed on his bib or smeared on his face. Grinning at his mother and aunt, he smeared the squash further across his face and into his hair.

The front door opened again and Jack walked in, carrying his portfolio casually at his side. He started to greet his wife, then stopped when he saw the pained look on her face and the way she was clutching her belly.

"Rose, are you all right?"

Rose gave him a look, which clearly told him the answer to that. Helga answered his question for her.

"She's fine. It's perfectly normal. You'll be parents in a few hours."

At that, the portfolio dropped from Jack's hand, papers scattering across the floor. Helga burst out laughing as she watched him scramble around the room, picking them up.

"How typical—the father is more nervous than the mother."

Jack just glared at her as he hurried to pick up the last few papers.

Tommy came in from the garage door, looking in perplexity at the scene before him. Rose was holding her stomach and groaning, Daniel was smearing squash in his hair, Helga was laughing like a lunatic, and Jack was chasing papers across the kitchen floor.

He just shook his head. "Okaay," he said, walking quickly past the commotion and through the living room door.

The laughter of the three adults followed him as he hurried to avoid the scene.

*****

It was Helga's week to cook, so after she had given the baby a quick bath in the sink, she gave him a bottle and left him under Tommy's supervision. Jack and Rose sat on the living room couch, talking quietly, while Tommy absently bounced the baby on his knee and tried to watch the news at the same time.

"How long have you been in labor?" Jack asked Rose, putting an arm around her shoulders as she tried to settle back on the couch.

"Oh...probably since last night, but I wasn't sure until this morning. The pains are about five minutes apart now, so we should leave as soon as dinner is over."

"You're planning on eating dinner?" Jack wasn't sure that was such a good idea, considering the way that she kept clutching her middle, but he reasoned that it wasn't actually her stomach that was giving her pain.

Rose shook her head. "I'm not hungry. I haven't really felt hungry all day. You just eat quickly, and then we'll go." She hugged her stomach, closing her eyes. "Just a little while longer."

"This time tomorrow, we'll have our own baby." Jack took her hand.

"I hope so." Rose opened her eyes and looked at him. "Mom told me a long time ago that I took twenty hours to be born. I hope this one doesn't take that long. I don't know if I can stand it."

"You'll make it." Jack squeezed her hand. "You're strong."

"Thanks," Rose told him dryly. "I still think you should do this part next time."

"Yes, dear."

Rose scowled at him. "Shut up."

"Anyone hungry?" Helga poked her head through the door.

Daniel had fallen asleep in Tommy's lap, but he opened his eyes and looked at his mother when she came in, putting his thumb in his mouth.

"I take it that's a yes." Helga picked him up and carried him into the kitchen, the others trailing after her.

Jack ate quickly, hastened by Rose's nudges and urgent looks. Her contractions were about four minutes apart, so she wanted to leave.

"You ready to go?" he asked her as he put the last bite of food in his mouth.

"Help me up." Jack helped Rose stand up, her swollen middle making getting out of a chair difficult. "Could you get my bag for me? I need to use the bathroom before we leave."

"Sure." Jack hurried ahead of her as she waddled down the hall.

A few minutes later, he found her bag where she had stuffed it under the bed. Wondering what was taking her so long, he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Rose? Are you okay?"

He heard her groan in response.

"Ow..." A moment later came a shocked exclamation. "Shit!"

Jack knocked more urgently on the door. "Rose! What's wrong?"

"Jack...could you please bring me some dry clothes and the mop? My water just broke."

"Open the door, Rose. I'll mop up; you go get some dry clothes on."

Rose opened the door. Her maternity jeans were soaked and a puddle of fluid was on the floor by the sink.

"Let's hurry," she gasped, holding her belly. "I don't know how long we've got."

"It could be a short time, or it could be hours," Helga told them, coming down the hall. She had heard the commotion and had come to see what was going on. "You two get going. You left some clothes in the laundry area in the garage last weekend that you can put on. Now, go."

"We're going. We're going." Rose tugged on Jack's hand. "Thanks, Helga."

"Good luck, Rose."

Jack put his hand on Rose's back, propelling her gently through the hall and kitchen and through the garage door.

"Good luck, you two," Tommy called as they hurried past.

"Thanks," Jack called back, hurrying Rose into the laundry area and then out to his car.


	78. A New Arrival 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Eight

_Memorial Hospital  
Southland, California  
October 1, 2004_

"Jack, really. I'm fine," Rose told him as they walked into the admitting area of the maternity ward. "I'm just having a baby. It's perfectly natural."

"Rose, just...humor me. It's perfectly natural for you to have a baby, and it's perfectly natural for me to worry about you."

Rose cast him a sideways glance, grinning. "Yes, dear." She echoed his words from earlier that evening.

Jack glared at her. Rose giggled—a sound that ended in a moan as another contraction knifed through her. For a moment, it seemed as though her body was trying to rip apart.

"Come on." Jack helped her over to the admission window, where the nurse quickly looked up Rose's information and confirmed that she had already filled out her paperwork. Within minutes, Rose had been admitted and her obstetrician called.

Jack tried to follow as Rose was seated in a wheelchair and pushed into the elevator, but the nurse assisting her shooed him back.

"You can join her in a few minutes, Mr. Dawson, once she's ready." She pushed the wheelchair into the elevator.

A look of panic suddenly crossed Rose's face. "Jack..." She reached out and gripped his hand, holding on for dear life. "Come with me."

"I'll be there in a few minutes, Rose. I promise." He bent down and whispered in her ear. "You're going to be fine." He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Hurry, Jack. No matter what anyone says, I want you there with me the whole time. This is our first baby..."

"I'll be there as soon as I can. I wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, go on up and let the nurse get you ready. As soon as they say it's all right, I'll be there with you."

"I know." Rose's eyes softened. "I love you, Jack." She let go of his hand, turning to look at him as the elevator doors closed.

*****

In minutes, Rose was wheeled into a room in the maternity ward. She endured another contraction, then stripped off her clothes and put on the loose, encompassing hospital gown. She looked at it with distaste as she put it on, then shrugged. Childbirth wasn't an attractive process—she had once watched an animal at the zoo give birth—and it didn't matter what the hospital gown looked like. No one looked good giving birth.

Once Rose was lying down, a sheet over her, the nurse adjusted the bed so that she was half-sitting up, a position that made giving birth easier. As the nurse checked her over, she looked at Rose and shook her head.

"You look awfully young for this. I've seen far too many teenage girls have babies."

"I'm not a teenager," Rose responded, a little offended. "I'm twenty. Besides, I'm better off than most of those girls. I've got a good husband. We've been married almost a year." She closed her eyes as another pain lanced through her.

"Did you plan to have this baby?"

Rose gave her an icy look. "Nature planned it. Now, if you don't have anything better to do than ask questions that are none of your business, why don't you go find my husband and tell him where I am?"

The nurse sighed and nodded. "I'll go get him." She left the room quickly, leaving Rose alone.

Rose immediately felt bad about her rudeness. True, the woman had been asking questions that were none of her business, but she hadn't been doing it to upset her. Rose had seen the genuine concern in the nurse's eyes, eyes that had seen far too many babies born to girls who weren't ready for them. The difference was, she was ready for motherhood.

*****

Jack came into the room a short time later. He had washed up and dressed in scrubs as Rose's doctor had ordered, covering himself up to avoid contamination of mother and child. Rose was clutching the sheet, panting against another contraction, when he came in, but a moment later she looked at him and smiled.

"You're here." She reached for his hand.

"I told you I wouldn't miss this for anything." Jack crouched down beside her, his eyes twinkling. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay, I guess. I just hope this doesn't take too long."

Rose's doctor came in then, the same obstetrician that had been Helga's doctor. "Let's see how you're doing," she told Rose, pulling away the sheet and examining her.

"You've got a ways to go yet," she said, pulling the sheet back down. "Probably another few hours."

Rose groaned in misery. "Why does it take so long?" she complained, pushing herself up on her elbows and looking at the doctor.

"This is your first baby. They tend to take a long time. Besides, it takes time for the body to be ready to give birth. It'll happen eventually."

"Eventually." Rose lay back, sighing. "I can hardly wait. No more swollen belly, no more labor pains—just a brand new baby."

Jack looked at Rose as the doctor walked out, promising to return soon. Rose turned her head, looking him in the eye.

"This is all your fault," she told him, suddenly irate.

"All my fault? I don't think so."

"You seduced me."

"You said yes."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"It's still your fault."

"How so?"

"It just is."

"As I recall, you were the one saying 'yes, yes, yes'."

"Only because I wanted to."

"You're not making any sense."

"Don't argue me, Jack. You're confusing me." She closed her eyes as another contraction began, clenching her teeth against the pain. Suddenly, she clutched his hand tighter and brought it toward her, almost sinking her teeth into it before he jerked it away.

"Rose!"

Rose relaxed at last, opening her eyes and looking at him. Her expression held a hint of humor now. "Don't confuse me with logic, Jack. And never argue with a woman in labor."

"Whatever you say, Rose."

Rose snapped her teeth at him again.

*****

It wasn't until 3:30 in the morning that the doctor told Rose that she was ready to push. For hours, Rose had been struggling with ever more powerful and frequent contractions, later struggling not to push before she was ready to give birth. Pushing too soon would cause swelling and prolong the birth.

The doctor had offered Rose an epidural painkiller, but she had refused it, wanting to bring her baby into the world without drugs. It was painful and she squeezed Jack's hand until he winced, but she was determined to have a natural birth.

At last, she was ready to give birth. Jack stood beside her, brushing the hair from her face. The doctor and a nurse stood at the end of the bed, waiting for the birth.

Rose cried out, panting and clutching Jack's hand. She bore down with all of her strength, then relaxed slightly, waiting for the next contraction.

Jack leaned down to her. "You can do it, Rose. Not much longer."

"You're lucky you're a man," she panted. "You'll never have to do this."

It seemed to take an eternity. With every pain, Rose pushed as hard as she could, but the baby was slow to emerge. The doctor did not seem overly concerned, but to Rose, it was interminable.

At last, near four o'clock, the top of the baby's head emerged. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, bearing down, knowing that the ordeal was almost over.

"Open your eyes, Rose!" she heard Jack urge her. Blearily, she opened her eyes and looked at the mirror above her—and watched the baby slide from her body.

Three voices sounded in unison.

The doctor's. "It's a girl!"

Jack's. "She's beautiful!"

And the baby's first cry of life.

Rose pushed herself up on her elbows, looking at her newborn. The doctor was holding her carefully in two hands, clearing the baby's mouth and nose so that she could breathe. The umbilical cord was still intact, still connecting Rose and the baby.

"Would you like to do the honors, Jack?" the doctor asked, gesturing to the umbilical cord.

Jack smiled and nodded, cutting through the cord at the point indicated, and a moment later the baby was placed in Rose's arms. She lay back down, cradling her newborn.

Jack sat beside her, looking at their newborn daughter. "She's beautiful, Rose," he told her, reaching out to touch a tiny hand. His smile widened when the baby clutched his finger in her tiny fist, waving her arms and legs, unaccustomed to the sudden freedom of movement. She continued to wail, but was beginning to calm down.

Rose looked at their tiny daughter. She was a mess, covered with blood and birth matter, but to Rose she was the most beautiful child ever born. The tiny mouth was open as the baby voiced her displeasure in being born, while one tiny hand clutched her father's finger and the other found its way to one of her mother's limp curls. The baby's own head was lightly covered with a thin layer of blonde hair, which was slicked down from the birth mess.

At last, the baby girl stopped crying and opened her eyes, which were an indistinct shade of blue. She stared at the world around her, her eyes unfocused and wide, before closing them and dozing off, finally letting go of her parents. Being born was tiring.

Rose and Jack held their daughter for a moment longer before allowing her to be taken away to be cleaned up and examined. The doctor finished checking Rose over, then let the nurse clean her up while she went to see to the new baby.

*****

After the nurse left, Rose lay back, exhausted from the hours of laboring. Jack still sat beside her, holding both of her hands.

"Rose," he whispered, before she could fall asleep.

"Hmm?" She opened her eyes and looked at him wearily.

"I just wanted to say thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome. For what?"

"For the baby. I...I've wanted to...to be part of a family again for eight years. And now...now I am. We...the three of us...we're a real family. I'm going to do my best to be a good father."

Rose squeezed his hand. "You will be. I can't say that things are going to be perfect—but I think that we can do it. We can raise our daughter together. She's lucky to have you for a father."

"And you for a mother." Jack smiled, cupping Rose's chin in his hand. He bent forward and kissed her gently. "Thank you."

Rose put her arms around him and kissed him back. "It was hard—but it was incredible. To bring this little person into the world...I'm glad you told me to open my eyes. I wouldn't have seen her born otherwise."

"It was almost miraculous," Jack agreed. "To see you give birth to this tiny baby..."

"She didn't seem so tiny being born...but you're right. I love her so much, and I just met her."

"What do you want to name her?" Jack asked, pulling her close as she sat up.

"I was thinking...would you object if we named her after your mother?"

"You want to name her after my mother?" Jack looked at her, clearly delighted at the idea. "I wouldn't mind at all. I think it would be an honor."

"That's her name, then. Elizabeth. Elizabeth Ruth Dawson, after both of our mothers."

"That's a big name for such a little baby."

Rose smiled. "She'll grow into it...and we can call her Lizzy for short."

"I like it. She looks like a Lizzy."

Rose smiled tiredly, closing her eyes. "I'm so tired..."

"Get some sleep, Rose. You've earned it." He paused. "I'm going to call Tommy and Helga and tell them about the baby." He gave her one last kiss. "I love you, Rose."

Rose responded sleepily. "I love you, too, Jack. Thank you—for everything."

Jack smiled, letting go of her hand as she fell asleep and quietly walking from the room, eager to spread the news.


	79. A New Arrival 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Seventy-Nine

_Saturday, October 2, 2004_

"Hello?" Helga answered the phone sleepily, wondering why anyone would be calling at five o'clock in the morning.

"Helga? It's Jack."

"Jack, do you know what time it is?"

"No..." Jack looked at his watch. "Oh. I guess it is still early. Sorry."

"I'll agree. But that's beside the point. How's Rose? Did she have the baby yet?"

"About half an hour ago."

Jack heard someone speaking in the background. Tommy picked up the phone extension.

"Jack? How's everything going?"

"It's great!" Jack's face lit up. "Rose gave birth to a beautiful little girl at 4:30. She's got a little bit of blonde hair on her head, and blue eyes, and tiny hands...I've never seen anything so wonderful! Rose and I are so proud of her...and she's ours. There's never been a more beautiful baby born—"

"Listen to him," Helga told Tommy, laughter in her voice. "You'd think he was the only man to ever accomplish such a thing—and Rose did most of the work."

"Rose and I are the only ones to ever accomplish baby Lizzy."

"Lizzy? Is that her name?"

"Actually, it's Elizabeth Ruth Dawson, but we're going to call her Lizzy for short. She's so tiny..."

"How much does she weigh?" Helga wanted to know.

"She weighs seven pounds, six ounces, and she's twenty inches long. Her face is combination of Rose and my features, with a little of Rose's mother thrown in. She has perfect little hands and feet, and tiny fingers and toes, and—"

"Jack! Save something for a surprise. We're going to be by later to see her and visit Rose."

"Okay. Okay. I'll shut up now. I think I'm tired. I've been up all night."

"I'm sure Rose is even more tired."

"Rose was sleeping when I left the room. She's doing fine. The birth took a few hours, but—"

"It often does," Helga told him, smiling. She clearly remembered the birth of her own child.

"Well, I think I'll hang up now and come home to rest. Later, we can all go over together to visit Rose and Lizzy. Wait until you see her—"

"Jack, hang up and come home now. You're starting to repeat yourself."

"I'm on my way. Good morning. Uh...good night. Ah...I mean...hmm...good-bye."

Tommy and Helga were laughing when they hung up.

*****

Rose held out her arms as the nurse walked into her room, carrying Lizzy. She cuddled the newborn, really getting a chance to examine her for the first time.

She had slept for several hours following the birth, then had awakened long enough to eat breakfast and nurse the baby. One of the maternity nurses had tried to show her how to hold the baby in order to nurse her, and had been very surprised to discover that Rose already knew. She had observed Helga nursing Daniel enough times to have a fair idea of what she was doing, and instinct had shown her the rest.

After the nurse had taken the baby back to the nursery, Rose had left a message on her mother's answering machine, both at home and at work, where Ruth was likely to be, even on a Saturday. After resting for a while longer, she had requested that the baby be brought back to her.

Now, Rose cradled the dozing newborn in her arms, examining the tiny features. The face was plump and babyish, but she thought she could see both her own and Jack's features. The tiny nose and stubborn chin were unmistakably inherited from her grandmother, Ruth.

Wincing, she pulled her knees up and propped the baby against her legs, unwrapping the blanket and examining the tiny hands and feet. Carefully, she counted each finger and toe, satisfying herself that all was right, and then lifted the newborn back into her arms, rocking her gently.

Lizzy awakened and whimpered softly, soon quieting as Rose opened her hospital gown and began to nurse her. Her little blue eyes opened, staring in unfocused fascination at her mother, while a tiny fist clutched one of the ties to Rose's hospital gown.

Rose stared at her baby, an adoring look on her face. _So this is what motherhood is all about,_ she thought, stroking a tiny cheek. _These are the little creatures that mothers fight to the death to protect. I understand why. She's so darling, and she's mine._

She looked up as someone came into the room. "Mom!" she exclaimed, sitting up straighter and pulling her blanket up to cover the nursing baby, curiously uncomfortable with letting her mother see her feeding her infant.

"Rose." Ruth came closer. "So, I take it this is my granddaughter?"

Rose pulled the now-contented baby away from her breast and put her to her shoulder, patting her back gently. "Yes, this is her. Elizabeth Ruth Dawson. Lizzy for short."

"Ruth? Her middle name is Ruth?" Ruth looked flattered.

"Yeah. Jack and I decided to name her after our mothers. Jack's mother's name was Elizabeth, but it was okay to give the baby her name for a first name, because no one will confuse which Elizabeth is being talked about. Jack's mother died eight years ago."

"She's beautiful," Ruth told her daughter, touching a tiny fist. "She looks like you."

"And like Jack. She looks like both of us. But look at her nose and chin. She got those from you." She hesitated. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Of course." Ruth pulled up a chair and sat beside her daughter's bed, carefully taking her granddaughter into her arms. "She's adorable, Rose."

Rose's face lit up. "She is, isn't she? Mom, I wanted to thank you for the bassinet. We've got it set up in our room. She'll sleep in our room for a few months, until she learns to sleep through the night. We don't want her crying and waking up the entire household."

"You're still living like that?"

Rose shrugged. "It's a good arrangement, though there's now two babies in the house."

"Two?"

"My roommate, Helga, has an eight-month-old son."

"Does his father live in the house also?"

Rose shook her head. "No, Helga's husband died in the earthquake last year. Lizzy is lucky—she has two parents to love her."

"You'd trust your ex-con husband with a child?"

Rose stared at her mother. "Of course. He's wonderful with children. They adore him."

"I'd be worried he'd abandon her or neglect her."

"Not Jack, Mom. He loves her as much as I do."

"Well, that's good, because it'll make things easier."

"I know. It's easier to raise a baby with two parents. Of course, the way things are, she'll have four parents and a brother. We've all been helping with Daniel."

Ruth looked a little surprised. "Well, you'll find things easier that way, I'm sure. Of course, if you're smart, you'll let her get used to other people as quickly as possible."

"There's plenty of time. We'll just take things as they come. She'll meet everyone else later today, I think. Except for Daniel. I don't know if they'll let him up here. He might pass something contagious on to the newborns."

"What I meant is, you'll want to get her used to daycare as soon as possible. You'll need someplace to leave her while you pursue your career."

"I'm staying home with her for a few months, and taking care of Daniel at the same time. That's my 'career' at the moment. I'm going back to college next semester, and Daniel's usual baby-sitter will watch both of them."

"You took time off from college?" Ruth was appalled. "Rose, you don't have forever, and you're already setting yourself back by going to a community college instead of a university."

"I want to spend some time with her, and I'm lucky enough to have that option. Jack has a good job and can support all three of us."

"Rose...don't you care at all about how this will disrupt your life?"

Rose's smile faded. "I'm happy to have this 'disruption', as you call it."

"Rose, I'm just concerned that you might be throwing your life away."

"Mom, believe it or not, there is more to life than money and a prestigious career. I have a family, too."

"Children grow up, Rose. When your daughter is grown, what will you have?"

"As much as I had before. Besides, Jack and I plan on having one more."

"I can't believe you're being so foolish, Rose. You're throwing away your life—"

"I am not! I'm doing exactly what I want to do!"

"That's a problem you've always had. Impulsiveness. You don't think before you act."

"I've thought about this plenty. I'm happy with my decisions."

"It would be better if you stopped with only one child and learned to tell your husband no. That way, you won't have any more of these 'accidents' that will add more burden to your life."

"Lizzy isn't a burden," Rose hissed, glaring at her mother. "She's my baby."

"You might have been better off if things had worked out with Cal. He would have had more respect for you."

_Oh, Mom, if you only knew._ Rose frowned at her mother. "Jack has plenty of respect for me—more than Cal ever did. We wanted this baby, once we knew she was coming and got over the shock. And we do plan to have another in the future."

"I think you're making a big mistake." Ruth spoke tersely to her daughter. "You could have so much, if only you didn't burden yourself with children. One mistake is acceptable, but to make the same mistake twice—"

"My baby is not a mistake!" Rose's voice was rising. Lizzy began to wail, frightened by the loud voices and the tension. Rose took her from Ruth, cuddling her close.

"I didn't say she was."

"Yes, you did! You think I made a terrible mistake in having this baby—just like you made a mistake in having me!" Ruth started to speak, but Rose went on, furiously. "You didn't want me, did you? If you hadn't had me, you could have divorced Dad and pursued your career without the _burden_ of child-rearing!" Rose's voice was sarcastic. "Why did you have me, anyway? If you didn't want me, couldn't you have had an abortion or given me up for adoption, rather than _ruining your life by having a child?!"_

"Rose, I never said I didn't want you—"

"You didn't have to. I was never good enough for you, was I? If you had to have a child, you wanted one who was a perfect little angel and would enhance your status. Instead, you got me—a normal child who misbehaved sometimes!"

"Try all the time. You never made a move that wasn't calculated to annoy me."

"Annoy you! I spent years trying to please you! I finally realized that you couldn't be pleased. It's no damned wonder you sold me to Cal! You wanted at least one thing out of me that was pleasing to you. But, of course, I couldn't even do that! I couldn't live with an abusive man—but that doesn't matter to you. Jack doesn't improve your status any—so you won't even give him a chance. Do you know I met Jack, Mom? I was trying to get out of my engagement to Cal—and my whole, messed-up life—in the quickest, most permanent way possible. I wanted to die that night—but Jack came along, and he had the compassion and the caring to convince me not to. I'm still alive, thanks to him!"

Ruth stared at her daughter. "It's a pity you didn't succeed that night, Rose," she said icily, before she thought about her words. She was immediately sorry, but Rose didn't give her a chance to apologize.

A look of shock and anguish crossed Rose's face. "Mom...I hate you. I've never hated anyone like I hate you—not even Cal. What kind of a mother tells her daughter that she should have succeeded at suicide? Of course, it just goes along with the view that you have that I can't do anything right!"

"Rose—"

"Get out." Rose's voice was as icy as her mother's had been a moment before. "Get out of this room. I don't want to be anywhere near you. You always wanted to be free of me...well, now you have your wish. You're not going to see me again. I won't bother you anymore." Her voice broke on the last words.

"Rose, if you'd just let me explain—"

"Get out!" Rose held her baby close, rocking her as she wailed with alarm at the loud voices.

Ruth looked at her daughter for a moment longer, then turned and walked away, leaving the room and Rose behind.

As soon as Ruth was gone, Rose burst into tears, curling around Lizzy and sobbing heartbrokenly. _My mother hates me. She wishes I had succeeded at killing myself. I'm glad that I didn't—glad that I didn't give her the satisfaction. So what if I can't please her? No one can. Even Cal would have displeased her after a while._

But it didn't change the fact that the mother she had always longed to make happy had rejected her outright—and in such a cruel way. _Mom, why? Why couldn't you have cared, at least a little? What did I ever do to you? I couldn't help being born. No child has a choice about that. You could have given me up—or maybe Dad wanted me. I think he did. That's something._

A nurse came in, alerted by the sound of Lizzy's wailing. She saw Rose curled around the infant, crying, and hurried to take the baby. Rose resisted for a moment, clinging to her child, before she allowed the nurse to take the baby from her and take her back to the nursery.

Rose rolled over and buried her head in her arms, crying. "Mom..." she whispered brokenly, curling up in misery.

*****

About half an hour later, Jack returned to the hospital to see Rose and his daughter. He walked along at a quick pace, carrying flowers in one hand and candy in the other. Tommy and Helga were downstairs, waiting to see if they would be allowed to visit.

Jack came into Rose's room with a smile, but that smile faded when he saw Rose curled up in misery in her bed, crying quietly.

"Rose?"

Rose looked up, wiping her eyes. She tried to smile when she saw Jack, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Rose, what's wrong?" He knew it wasn't a problem with the baby. He had looked through the window into the nursery on his way to Rose's room, and Lizzy had been sleeping peacefully, a pink bow on her head and an identification bracelet to match Rose's on her wrist.

Rose sat up slowly, her shoulders still shaking with an occasional sob. Jack sat beside her and put his arms around her.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, stroking her long red hair as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

It was a moment before Rose could answer. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she told him, "Mom came to visit."

_Oh, no,_ Jack thought, but allowed her to finish what she was saying.

"She said my having a baby was a mistake, and we started arguing, and then I told her about how I met you."

"And she didn't take it well?"

Rose shook her head, her eyes filling with tears again. "She slapped me, and then told me—told me that...that...it was a pity—that I didn't succeed." She started sobbing again.

"Rose..." Jack held her close, rubbing her back gently as he tried to soothe her.

"How could she? _How could she?_ I've never done anything to her. Not on purpose, anyway. I never meant to be a burden to her, or to be born. I couldn't help it. I al-always wanted to please her, a-and she wishes I'd n-never been born. She wishes I'd k-killed myself rather than disrupt her p-plans. I always loved her, and she always...hated me." She took a deep breath, then went on. "I—I'm glad that I didn't kill myself—I wouldn't want her to have the satisfaction."

"You've got too much to live for, anyway," Jack whispered soothingly. "Lots of people love you and care about you. Maybe not your mother—" Rose sniffed loudly, clinging to him. "—but lots of other people do. Your father did, and your grandparents, and your cousins, and your friends—and me. I'm sorry your mother is that way—"

"It's not your fault." Rose looked at him, her eyes red and swollen. "Mom could never be satisfied with anyone. Even Cal would have displeased her eventually...though maybe not as much as he displeased me—or as much as I displeased her. Jack, I am never going to act toward Lizzy like Mom acted toward me. No matter how annoyed I get with her, I'm always going to love her anyway. I could never hate my daughter...not like Mom hates me. I don't understand why she feels like she does."

"Neither do I, Rose. I don't think I could explain it. Maybe a trained psychologist could—but I'm not there yet."

"I don't want to see her again."

"That's your decision, but maybe someday..."

"No." Rose shook her head. "I don't want to see her again." She and Jack seldom argued, but on this she would not bend. "I can't deal with someone who hates me for no reason. Even Cal has a reason—I helped put him in prison. But Mom—Mom doesn't have a reason...not one that I can think of, anyway."

"There's usually a reason for everything—but if you don't want to see her, I won't push you. I don't know everything about you two, or why you think the way you do, so I won't interfere." He pulled her close again. "I love you, Rose. Everything's going to turn out all right eventually."

"Maybe."

"Tommy and Helga are here—Helga left Daniel with a neighbor. Would you like to see them?"

Rose nodded, wiping the last tears from her eyes. "Sure. I need to see some friendly faces. And we can see Lizzy, too, while they're here."

Jack handed her a tissue to wipe her face with. Rose took it, then looked at him gratefully.

"I love you, Jack. Thank you for understanding." She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his in the familiar comforting pose.


	80. A New Arrival 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty

_Sunday, October 3, 2004  
Masline, California_

Rose looked into the back seat to check on Lizzy as Jack pulled up to the curb and parked the car. Both mother and the two-day-old infant were fine, so the hospital had released them an hour earlier. Jack had put the infant seat in his car and had picked them up.

Lizzy had lain quietly in Rose's arms until she had put her into the infant seat, facing backwards. At the sudden loss of contact and the experience of being strapped in, she had wailed furiously, but had soon quieted when Jack had started the car, the vehicle's motion lulling her to sleep.

Rose would have liked to have held her all the way home, but she knew the dangers of holding a baby while the car was moving. If there was an accident, or even if they stopped abruptly, Lizzy would go flying. She was safer strapped into her seat, no matter how much she cried.

Rose got out of the car and opened the back door, unbuckling Lizzy and taking her out. The baby whimpered at being disturbed, but soon relaxed in her mother's familiar embrace. Jack picked up Rose's bag from the car and walked over to her, putting an arm around her and stroking the baby's tiny cheek with his free hand. Lizzy turned her head toward him, her mouth working, before settling down again.

"I love you, Rose," Jack murmured, kissing her forehead and putting his arms around both her and the infant.

Rose leaned her head against his shoulder. "I love you, too." She was still upset over the fight with her mother the day before, but she kept trying to put things in perspective. _Mom may not love me, but I have a husband who does, and a brand new baby. I've got relatives who care about me, and good friends. I don't need Mom. I'm an adult, with a family of my own._

"Your mom is wrong, you know," Jack told her, slinging her bag over his shoulder and walking her toward the front door.

"About what?" Rose looked at him, puzzled.

"About you being unlovable. I haven't met many people as lovable as you."

"You'd better not meet anyone more lovable, buster." Rose gave him a mock-scowl, seeing the humor in his words.

He gave her teasing look. "Oh, I don't know. There's a little girl who about matches her mother. Of course, that's not surprising, seeing that she's your baby."

Rose grinned, setting the baby against her shoulder and patting her back. "Well, if it's only Lizzy..."

"Trust me, if she grows up to be anything like you, the world will be the better for it."

Rose gave him a heart-rending smile. "Jack..."

He kissed her. "I'm serious, Rose. You're one of the sweetest people I've ever met, and I'm not saying that because you're my wife. From the start, I could tell that you really cared about people. If there were more people like you in the world, it would be a better place."

The door flew open suddenly, startling them. "Are you going to stand out here talking all day, or are you going to show us that baby?" Sophie demanded, looking at the threesome.

"Sophie! I didn't know you were here," Rose said, looking at her friend.

"I'm parked just down the street."

"I guess I didn't see your car. I was too busy checking on Lizzy."

Sophie leaned forward for a better look at the baby. "She's so cute, Rose. She looks a lot like your mom." She looked at Rose in surprise as tears sprang to her eyes. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing. It's all right. Mom and I just got into another fight, is all," Rose told her, unwilling to dredge up the details again.

"Oh. Another one?"

"Yeah, as usual." Rose slipped past Sophie into the house, Jack following.

Helga was sitting in the kitchen, feeding Daniel. She smiled when she saw Jack and Rose.

"Tommy! Jack and Rose are here!" she called. Lizzy whimpered, startled at the loud words. Daniel laughed, kicking his feet in delight.

Rose patted the baby's back soothingly, calming her, as Jack set the bag in a chair and Tommy came out of the living room.

"You're back!" he exclaimed, looking at the couple and their newborn.

"Yep. We're home. Let's go sit in the living room," Jack suggested, leading the way.

All five adults squeezed onto the couch, Rose in the middle with Lizzy in her arms. Helga sat beside her, Daniel in her lap.

"Can I hold her, Rose?" Sophie asked. "I didn't get a chance to come down sooner."

"Sure." Carefully, Rose passed the baby to Sophie, who cradled her carefully, looking at the thin blonde hair and tiny face.

"She's just beautiful," Sophie declared. "Now that I look at her more closely, she looks a lot like you and Jack, too. And she has hands just like your Nana."

Jack nodded. He'd already observed this, and had sketched the tiny hands, both alone and curled against her mother. He hadn't spent so much time making drawings for fun in a long time, but Rose and Lizzy provided the perfect inspiration.

Sophie passed the baby to Tommy next, letting him hold the newborn. Lizzy stared in blank fascination at him, waving her arms. One thumb finally found its way into her mouth, and she dozed off again, safe in her uncle's arms.

Jack and Rose finally took her back. Helga looked at her admiringly, but couldn't hold her with a lap already full of active baby. Jack held her, rocking her, before Rose took her back to give Helga a closer look.

Helga put one arm around Daniel, to keep him in place, while she touched Lizzy's hands with the other. Lizzy curled her fists around Helga's fingers, holding on tight for a moment before letting go.

This was too much for Daniel. Curious about what all the fuss was about, he squirmed in his mother's arms, trying to see the object of such adoration.

Helga set him so that he could see the new baby. Daniel stared at her for a moment, watching the waving arms and unfocused eyes. Wanting to examine the interesting new object more closely, he grabbed at her, then screeched in surprise when Lizzy's tiny fist clamped onto his hand, holding tight.

Everyone laughed. Daniel looked like he was about to cry, but Helga picked him up and put him on her shoulder, patting his back lightly. Rose did the same with her own startled infant, and the two babies stared at each other in childish fascination.

Jack watched as Daniel grabbed Lizzy's hand again, the newborn holding on tight to the other child's fingers. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship," he commented, seeing Daniel give a smile that showed off his new tooth.

The mothers laughed, agreeing.


	81. Moving On 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-One

_Saturday, March 11, 2006_

One and a half years had passed. The "family" living in the old house had thrived, each person going about their lives. The babies, Daniel and Lizzy, had grown strong and healthy. Daniel was two years old, a happy, laughing toddler who believed the house and everyone in it belonged to him. Lizzy, at one and a half, worshipped her "cousin", toddling awkwardly after him, much to Daniel's dismay. Neither child had learned how not to get on each other's nerves, so one adult or another was always picking them up and separating them. Within a short time, the toddlers would be playing contentedly again, the incident forgotten.

But change was inevitable. The house, which had been the perfect size for four adults, soon seemed to be too small with the addition of two small children. Arguments over petty things became more common, though the group still remained friends.

Helga was the first to leave, taking Daniel with her. In February of 2006, she married a colleague, Bill Hampton, and moved back to Los Angeles. The others were sorry to see her go, but she had finally gotten over Fabrizio's death and found love again. Helga wanted a home and family of her own, though she always kept in close contact with her old friends.

In spite of these changes, Jack, Rose, and Tommy were still content to share the house. Lizzy moped miserably for a few days after Helga left with Daniel, missing her playmate, but with the resilience of young children everywhere, she soon found new things to think about.

Jack and Rose had grown even closer since the birth of their child. Unlike some couples, who found child-rearing a strain on their relationship, they had strengthened the bonds between them by raising their daughter together. Lizzy adored both of them.

Things had gone smoothly for them since Lizzy was born, except for one rough patch the previous autumn. The pharmacy that Jack usually got his prescriptions filled at had undergone a change of management, and the new management was none too honest. For certain drugs, such as Prozac, the pharmacists were encouraged to mix the real medication with placebos to reduce the pharmacy's costs. Attributing his growing misery to the stress of college and work, Jack hadn't realized what was going on for two months. When he finally came to point that the depression was unbearable, he had enlisted the help of his doctor in finding out what was wrong. When several complaints were filed against the pharmacy, the problem became clear. He had switched pharmacies, and was back to normal by Christmas.

Rose had been at his side the entire time, trying to soothe his bad temper and sullen behavior. She'd had a good idea of what was wrong, even when Jack had insisted that it was only stress. When he'd come to the point when it was no longer bearable, it had been Rose who he had turned to first, more comfortable talking to her than anyone else. When Rose had learned of what the pharmacy had been doing, she had insisted that he, too, file a complaint, though he wanted to put the whole incident behind him. In the end, she had been proven right, when the courts forced the pharmacy to pay a five thousand dollar settlement to each of the complainants, and then had shut it down. Jack had put the money into a special account for college, for whoever in the family might need it.

*****

Jack came through the front door, whistling to himself as he sorted through the mail. From the living room, he could hear the sound of Rose's guitar—a gift from him for Christmas of 2004—and Lizzy attempting to sing along, though her vocabulary was still small. Rose was undoubtedly practicing for another performance at the college, something she had become very involved in since she had returned to school following Lizzy's birth and decided to major in music and political science.

He walked into the living room and stood listening for a minute as she sang along with her guitar playing, a old Civil War song of which she was fond. Rose had continued her interest in folk music, developing her own singing style that was popular with fans of such music in Masline. She had even been asked to play at a city festival in January, her first paid singing job.

Rose looked up when she saw him, setting the guitar aside. He applauded lightly, drawing a smile from Rose, who was proud of finally getting him to like her kind of music.

Lizzy toddled up to them as he sat on the couch beside her, holding up her arms to be picked up. Jack scooped her up and set her between them, giving her a brightly colored piece of junk mail to play with.

"So, what have we got today?" Rose asked, leaning across Lizzy to take a look.

"Bills, junk mail, your paycheck from the college..." He handed it to her. Rose had gone to work in the college bookstore soon after returning to school, eventually working her way up to half-time. It didn't pay as well as her old job at the mental health clinic had, but it allowed her time for classes and child-rearing. She was sometimes able to bring Lizzy with her when the baby-sitter was sick, an added advantage.

Rose opened the envelope as Jack sorted through the rest of the mail, setting aside Tommy's mail. When he came to the bottom of the stack, his eyes widened.

"What? What is it?" Rose asked, seeing his expression. She leaned forward to see what it was.

There were two thick envelopes from the University of California, Riverside, where they had both applied to go after they graduated from Masline City College in June. She snatched the one with her name on it, crossing her fingers. She hoped that both of them had made it in. They both wanted to continue their educations, and they wouldn't stand being separated while in school.

Jack had set his aside and picked up the last envelope—which held his lawyer's return address. For the past year and a half, he had been trying to get his records sealed from the time before he turned eighteen. The old felony conviction still stood in his way, though he hadn't been in trouble in seven years. Almost afraid to see what the letter said, he opened it—and then leaped from the couch with a whoop at the letter's contents.

"What? What happened?" Rose was thoroughly mystified. Lizzy giggled, staring at him dancing around the living room.

Jack pulled Rose to her feet and danced her around. She squealed with laughter, snatching the letter from him.

"I take it this is good news?" she asked, scanning the letter. Her eyes widened when she saw what it contained. "Jack! Your record has been cleared! How in the world—"

Jack picked her up and spun her around, laughing with joy. "I never expected this! I hoped to get my records sealed, to keep people from finding them, but this is even better! I've been cleared! I'm not an ex-felon anymore!"

"This is wonderful! It won't stand in your way anymore! This just goes to show that some people can change."

Jack pulled her into his arms and kissed her, not breaking the kiss until a tiny hand tugged at his pant leg, and an equally tiny voice inquired, "Daddy? Mama?"

They scooped Lizzy up between them, hugging her and each other. Lizzy grinned, not sure what was going on, but delighted all the same.

They finally sat down again, setting Lizzy between them. Looking at each other supportively, they each opened their envelopes from UCR and looked through them.

Rose hugged Jack, her eyes sparkling. "I made it in!" she exclaimed, waving her acceptance letter. "And they've offered me work in the bookstore, too. A double major at a university—I hope I can handle all that."

"Me, too." Jack grinned, showing her his letter. "I got in, too."

"Yes!" Rose threw her hands over her head and clapped them together. "We did it! I knew we could!"

"And with partial scholarship, at least for me," Jack added, showing her another paper. "Did you get a scholarship?"

Rose checked, then shook her head. "No...but we should be able to afford it anyway. We've got some money saved, and I'll be working...and we can take out student loans if we need to."

"And we can take turns watching Lizzy, so we won't need a sitter."

"Mari is going there, too, as a grad student in Botany. She might help. You know how she likes Lizzy."

"You mean she finally learned the difference between Jimsonweed and chamomile?"

"Jack..." Rose shook her head reprovingly. Jack had never been able to resist teasing Mari about that when she had come to visit.

"Yeah, I know...don't tease her. She has dangerous knowledge. But," he added, unable to resist, "if she tried to poison me with Jimsonweed, it would probably be—"

"You never quit, do you?" Rose shook her head, trying not to laugh. It was rude to laugh at people, but she didn't think Mari was ever going to live the Jimsonweed incident down.

"Do you think we can stand anymore excitement today?" she asked, setting the papers aside. She grinned, looking at him. "Let's go out to celebrate."

"Sounds good. Where do you want to go?"

"I keem," Lizzy interjected, voting for her favorite food. She recognized the word celebration, and hoped that it would mean a treat for her.

"Someplace where Lizzy can come," Rose said, picking the little girl up and hugging her. "Do you want ice cream, Lizzy?"

"Yeah!" Lizzy's eyes lit up.

"Well, let's go, then." Jack took Lizzy from Rose, heading down the hall to get her ready to go out. Rose joined arms with him, dancing their way down the hall.


	82. Moving On 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Two

_Monday, July 31, 2006_

Rose swung Lizzy up into her high chair, setting her dinner before her. The other two adults were already eating, so she quickly sat down beside Jack and joined them, giving Lizzy a stern look when she tried to drop her broccoli on the floor.

Jack had just come home, arriving late after going to a job interview with a small publishing house in San Bernardino. Today had been his last day with the Messner Agency, a job he had given up reluctantly. He had enjoyed working there, but it was too far to commute there from Riverside, especially when he would also be a student. For the last month, he had been looking for another job closer to their new home. Rose would be working on campus, but her part-time job wouldnt pay enough to support the three of them.

Rose helped Lizzy hold her spoon correctly, then turned to Jack. "How did the job interview go?"

He smiled, the first smile he had given her when asked about the job search. "I got the job."

"Great! Finally, somebody recognized your talent! What will you be doing?"

"I'll be an assistant manager in the art department for Vandekar Publishing, working from twelve to seven Friday through Tuesday. It wont be quite full time, but it'll be enough, and I'll still have time for classes." One of the problems they had found with their chosen university was that it did not offer night classes. Students had no choice but to go to class during the day and try to find work at other times.

"Oh, management," Rose teased him, knowing how he often felt about those in charge.

"Assistant manager," he emphasized. "I won't really be running anything. And I'll still get to do some artwork."

"I'm glad you finally found something," Rose told him. "I was beginning to worry you'd get stuck working for Mari's old nemesis."

"I avoided that, thank goodness. They sounded an awful lot like Sunpeak. And that building--I don't think they ever fixed it after the earthquake a few years ago. It had water marks up to the second floor from when the dam collapsed." Jack had applied with every place he could in the Riverside area and the surrounding cities, even those that he really didn't want to work for. When there were hungry mouths to feed, especially tiny ones like Lizzy's, enjoyment of the job came second to the need to make a living. But he had finally succeeded in finding a job he wanted.

"It was actually easier to look for a job this time," Jack went on. "I got a lot more interviews, even if nothing came of them."

"It's probably because your record has been cleared. With no felony conviction in your background, employers are more likely to trust you."

Jack tugged at his collar, not liking the suit and tie hed had to wear for the interview. He didn't mind dressing nicely, but in the summer heat, a suit was torture. He glanced over at Tommy, who was dressed similarly.

"Didn't you have a job interview today, too?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah. Up in Redlands, with a garage that needs a manager."

"So that's why youre dressed up," Rose commented. "I didnt think mechanics usually needed to dress up."

"Not around all that oil and grease," he agreed, grinning. "But this was just an interview."

"So how did it go?"

"It seemed to go pretty well. If I get the job, I'll be moving to Redlands."

Rose laughed. Ever since she and Jack had announced that they would be moving to Riverside, Tommy had been looking for a job in another city. He could easily have stayed in Masline, but the old house was really too big for one person, and he didn't have any particular attachment to the town. It hadn't escaped anyone's notice, though, that he did most of his job searching in Redlands, where Sophie had chosen to stay after she had graduated from college in June. Tommy and Sophie had been dating off and on for a couple of years, and were closer than either would admit. Sophie hadn't been at all sorry to see Tommy trying to find a job near to where she lived, though she had insisted that she and Tommy were mostly just friends when Rose had asked her about it.

"When are you leaving?" Tommy asked them, looking from Rose to Jack.

"August eighteenth," Jack told him, breaking off a piece of toast and handing it to Lizzy. "We'll be moving into married student housing on campus."

"You're lucky they have that. You won't have to go very far to get to class."

"I don't know," Rose told him. "UCR is a pretty big campus. Not as big as some, but it does take a lot of walking. But I'm sure well do fine. I like it better than Elias University, anyway."

"Of course, no one is _making_ you go to UCR," Jack commented. "And no one is telling you what to study."

"That does make a difference," Rose agreed, smiling. Much to her surprise, when she had applied for graduation from Masline City College a few months earlier, she had been told that not only had she earned the Associate's degrees in music and political science that she had been working toward, but she had also earned sufficient credits to qualify for degrees in dance, theater arts, and English. Most of the courses she had taken in these subjects had been for fun--she could have graduated the previous December, but she had been unwilling to head for a university without Jack, so she had taken five classes simply because she was interested in them, and with that, combined with the variety of classes she had taken before and the intense coursework she had completed at Elias University, she had wound up with five Associate's degrees. Jack had been a bit envious--he had only earned two degrees, in art and psychology--but he had congratulated her anyway, proud of her accomplishments.

Seeing that Lizzy had finished eating and was getting restless, Rose picked her up, carrying her to the sink to wash her hands and face. Propping the living room door open, she set the toddler on the floor and sat back down at the table.

"Well, I should know about the job in another day or two," Tommy told them.

"It's kind of sad, seeing everyone go their separate ways," Rose commented. "Its like the end of an era."

"We're not all going our separate ways," Jack reminded her, a twinkle in his eye. "We're going to the same place, along with Lizzy."

"And anyway, after all these years together, I think we'll always be friends," Tommy added, smiling.


	83. Moving On 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Three

_Friday, August 18, 2006_

Jack and Rose walked along the street together, Lizzy snuggled asleep against Jack's shoulder. It was early morning of their last day in Masline.

Almost everything was packed and ready to go, except for the few items they needed for that morning. The house looked huge and empty, stripped of its furnishings. Everything had been packed up to take away, sold, or given away. In another week, a new family would be moving into the old house.

Tommy had left a week earlier, taking the job in Redlands and moving into an apartment not far from where Sophie lived. The house had seemed bigger and emptier with him gone, though Lizzy, with her babyish antics, soon filled much of the void.

Today, the Dawsons would be moving to Riverside. All of their belongings were packed up, stuffed into the two cars or packed into a U-Haul trailer. They weren't sure that there would be space for everything, but they had already gotten rid of as much as they thought they could part with.

Jack and Rose had awakened early that morning, finishing the packing and deciding to take one last walk up to the hills. Lizzy had whined miserably when they had awakened and dressed her--she couldn't be left alone--but soon had fallen asleep again on her father's shoulder.

The familiar landscape had changed over the years there. Late that spring, the owners of the vast, rolling section of hills had sold off a large portion to Titan Construction, which was even now constructing small, tightly packed houses on the land. The sound of the bulldozers had been audible all the way into the old neighborhood, much to the dismay of the people living there.

Jack and Rose had watched sadly as the once rolling land was bulldozed flat, destroying the once-beautiful landscape. Even the place where they had been married would soon be covered by small, identical houses. A wall was already being built around the new housing development, separating it from the neighborhood beyond.

Rose eyed the unfinished buildings as they slipped past, wondering if these houses would be as shoddily constructed as those that had fallen in during the earthquake. Titan Construction had been the subject of a thorough investigation following the earthquake, but in the end had gotten off with just a small fine, hardly enough to even be noticed by the company. Those in charge had insisted that the fine had cost them dearly, and proved it by laying off fifty employees, but in truth, the twenty-five thousand dollar fine had been little more than a drop in the bucket for them.

"It's sad, looking at all these buildings," she commented. "It used to be so beautiful here. But now--it's just a mass of buildings and concrete. All of those houses are going to look exactly alike, just like where I used to live in Masline. People will pay outrageous prices for them, all the while closing themselves off from what's around them--and even from their own neighbors. They're like a bubble society, each person floating around in their own little bubble, not seeing what's around them, until one day something happens to burst that bubble. Then they'll cry and scream, and wonder what happened, when the whole problem was right in front of them all the time--but they never even tried to see it."

Jack nodded, agreeing. "And even the name of this development shows that. Masline Hills--have you ever noticed that these places are usually named after what they're destroying? People want what those names promise--but they'll never get it. It doesn't exist anymore."

"Some of it does," Rose told him, looking past the buildings. "At least for now. And someday, this place will be more like where we live--a mix of people, each living in their own way. No matter how exclusive people try to keep these places, eventually they become what they should have been in the first place. It's just the natural order of things--and I think it's better that way."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Of course, people do need housing, whatever kind it is."

"But I don't think that this kind is really _needed_. The people who will be able to afford these houses aren't the ones who desperately need a place to live." She gestured to a sign advertising the upcoming development. "Houses starting at five hundred thousand dollars? For these shoddy little things? Surely these aren't really needed. Besides, wouldn't it have been easier just to rebuild on the open land left by the earthquake? It would have been so much easier, too--the land already flat and clear, with just the remains of the old buildings to clean up." She shook her head, answering her own question. "But then, people wouldnt pay such high prices for homes built in old neighborhoods. They might have to live near people who are different from them, people who aren't as affluent. What a tragedy." She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion, making Jack laugh.

"Cramdominiums, as Mari calls them."

"Exactly." Rose looked at the construction site, seeing how the workers were hurrying to get as much as possible done before the day grew hot, not that it would make much of a difference. They would be working until late, no matter what the weather. Titan Construction had demanded more and more work of its employees over the past few years, while offering them less and less pay and benefits. But people needed jobs, and they took what they could get, in spite of the unfavorable working conditions.

As they walked past the building site, giving it a wide berth, Rose noticed one of the supervisors eyeing her balefully. He had been working for Titan Construction when she had been an intern for Cal, and had been one of those with whom she had locked horns. He had been a favorite of Cal's, but Rose couldn't stand him.

Glancing back at him, Rose smiled impishly. Knowing that it was guaranteed to annoy him, she softly began to sing one of the songs she had learned in the past few years, one that summed up the situation perfectly.

_Little boxes on the hillside  
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky  
Little boxes, little boxes  
Little boxes all the same  
There's a green one  
And a pink one  
And a blue one  
And a yellow one  
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky  
And they all look just the same._

The song had been written in the early 1960s, but it was just as accurate in the twenty-first century as it had been more than forty years earlier. Rose smirked as the supervisor gave her a dirty look. A construction worker laughed, but quickly stopped as the supervisor turned to look at him.

Jack laughed softly at the supervisor's reaction to Roses impertinence, and then, joining arms with her, joined her in singing.

_And the people in the houses  
All went to the university  
And they all got put in boxes  
Little boxes just the same  
And there's doctors  
And there's lawyers  
And business executives  
And they all get put in boxes  
Little boxes just the same._

Giving the glowering supervisors an innocent look, they hurried past the construction site and into the hills beyond.

*****

Later that morning, Jack took one last walk through the house, making sure that nothing had been left behind, while Rose put the last couple of boxes in his car and fed Lizzy.

"Do we have everything?" she asked, tossing the empty applesauce container and plastic spoon into the recycling bin. Lizzy sucked her fingers contentedly.

"That's everything." He took Lizzy from her, walking over to the outside faucet and washing her face. The little girl giggled, splashing in the mud.

"Come on, Busy-Lizzy." Rose scooped her daughter up, calling her by the nickname she had earned when she began to crawl and immediately showed an interest in everything she encountered. "It's time to go." She swung the child up on her shoulders, then turned, looking at the now-empty house. "I'm going to miss this place."

Jack came to stand beside her, putting an arm around her. "Me, too, but it's time to move on and do new things. Besides, Riverside is a nice place, too."

"Yes, it is--it's one of the most beautiful cities I've seen. But it'll take a while to feel like home. I've lived in Masline since I was nine--and I'm twenty-two now. Thirteen years is a long time in one place. I wonder if we'll ever find a place to really settle down."

"I don't know, Rose. Maybe. Who can tell?"

"Hot," Lizzy complained suddenly, tugging on one of her mother's ears.

"I guess that's our cue." Rose looked once more at the house. "We'd better go." Picking up her purse, she started down the driveway toward the cars.

"Wait." Jack hurried after her and gave her a kiss. "I'll see you there, okay?"

"Okay." Rose kissed him back, then hurried to her car and strapped Lizzy into her car seat. Waving, she watched Jack start carefully down the street, the U-Haul trailer attached to his car.

He waved back, then headed down the street. Rose climbed into the driver's seat of her car and started the engine, turning the air conditioner on high. Tickling one of Lizzy's bare feet, she popped a CD of children's music into the player and started down the driveway.

"Ready to go, Busy-Lizzy?"

"Yeah!" the child replied, kicking her feet merrily, excited at the adventure. "Go!"

Rose looked at the house one last time as she pulled into the street, then drove away, Lizzy babbling excitedly in the back seat. Jack was right; it was time to move on. The old house in Masline had been a good home, but life went on, and things changed.

She was ready for that change. Glancing toward the hills as she turned the corner, Rose went on her way, leaving their old home behind.


	84. The Activists 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Four

_Tuesday, April 10, 2007_

Life at the university was strange to the Dawsons at first, but they soon adjusted. After moving into their small quarters in married student housing, they established where everything on the campus was located and who their neighbors were. Mari was living two blocks from the campus in a small apartment, working on her Master's degree in Botany, so she and the Dawsons soon began spending a lot of time together, both on campus and off. Lizzy adored Mari, who often agreed to watch her free of charge, taking the little girl by the hand and leading her around, trying to teach her everything she knew.

Jack and Rose soon settled into the routine of school and work. Rose was a double major in political science and music, while Jack had decided to major in psychology and minor in art. They crammed in as many classes as they could while still having time to work. Life was busy, but they still found time for each other and for their daughter, often studying together in the evenings and making a point of having breakfast and dinner together as often as possible. On Wednesdays and Thursdays, when Jack didn't have to work, they would meet for lunch as well, bringing Lizzy with them. Mari watched Lizzy when both parents were at work or in class, and on Friday nights, which Jack and Rose had long ago established as an evening to spend together, with or without Lizzy along.

At the same time, Rose was beginning to establish her career as a singer and political activist. Majoring in both music and political science, she took what she learned and applied it to her ideals and her work. On Saturday nights, she often sang on campus, either as a student or as a volunteer, and began taking occasional jobs singing in small, eclectic nightclubs, local theaters, and community events. Jack came to listen to her sing whenever possible, bringing Lizzy along if he could. Lizzy loved her mother's singing, often repeating what she heard, though both parents occasionally cringed at Lizzy's interpretation of Rose's favorite songs, many of which were not written with small children in mind.

*****

Rose sat in one of the front desks in her Local Politics class, a new course that didn't have many students. Unlike many classes at UCR, this one was held in a classroom instead of a lecture hall, with twenty-five students instead of two hundred. She tapped her pencil quietly against her notebook, listening to the debate taking place.

The topic of the lecture was population issues in Riverside city politics. In Riverside, as in many Southern California cities, development and expansion were constant sources of contention. The city and county officials approved heavy development of the area, often forgetting that vast ranges of tract houses and shopping centers weren't all that people needed. The roads were congested and the air smoggy more often than not. Well-paying jobs in the area were scarce compared to the number of people who needed them, leading to massive commuting each morning and evening and almost constant gridlock on the freeways. Schools were overcrowded with students, invoking the wrath of parents and politicians, neither of whom seemed to recognize that they were part of the problem--the parents for insisting upon moving to a congested area, and the politicians for allowing the problem to grow worse by approving further development without adequate new schools.

Rose understood the problem, both from an intellectual point of view and from personal experience. In spite of the face that Jack was only about twenty miles from his job, he still had to leave an hour before work every day to be sure of getting there on time. In three years, Lizzy would be ready to start school, and placing her in a private school was out of the question. There just wasn't enough money, and Rose had never cared for the snobbish attitudes of many private schools. Of course, there was no telling where the Dawsons would be in three years--Jack and Rose would be finished with their Bachelor's degrees in only another year or so--but the problem was widespread. Rose was concerned, not just for her own child but for the society as a whole. It wasn't a healthy situation.

The lecture turned to the environmental issues of over-development, and one student, who believed strongly in continuing progress and development, added his ideas to the debate.

"We no longer need to worry about lack of water or energy," he spoke up, receiving a raised eyebrow from the professor, who often clashed with this particular student. They had differing views, and neither was shy about expressing those views. This class was much like the other political science classes Rose had taken--the most interested students sat in the front and debated each other and the professor, while everyone else sat in the back and avoided confrontation.

"Explain your viewpoint," the professor told him, as he often did when a student made a sweeping statement with nothing to back it up.

"It's pretty straightforward," the young man explained. "Water is no longer an issue because we've had good rainfall the past few years, and energy hasn't really been a problem since the Enron fiasco a few years ago."

Rose couldn't resist. "California goes through cycles of rain and drought," she pointed out. "A few years of good rain--most of which runs off, by the way--won't help in the long run. We may have enough water at the moment, but I really don't think so, seeing how there's always articles in the paper about smaller snow packs in the Sierras and arguments over who has the right to the water from the Colorado River. And if energy is no longer an issue, why is gasoline so expensive, and why is there so much debate over global warming and the human contribution with our energy sources? Something isn't working right."

The professor nodded, agreeing with Rose's statement, but before he could speak, the other student refuted her words.

"The reason that we can't store water is because we don't have sufficient reservoirs. Two were lost and another damaged during the earthquake of 2003, and you liberal environmentalists haven't allowed them to be rebuilt."

"They were seismically unsound," Rose argued. "That's why they collapsed. And as to the biggest one, Diamond Valley Lake, it was nothing short of idiocy to construct it between two towns and within a few miles of several earthquake faults. To be sure, Lake Perris could be rebuilt, and the Lake Hemet dam was repaired within a few months, but that doesn't change the fact that there's too many people for the resources. And what we do have is too often polluted or wasted. I've seen water running down the streets from people's yards, where they use hoses to clean their sidewalks and driveways instead of sweeping, which is easier and cheaper anyway."

"It's their water to waste."

"But we all have to suffer. And what about the energy? And dont give me that bull about nuclear power plants being the solution. This is earthquake country, and I well remember what happened to the San Onofre plant and the surrounding area. Maybe solar or hydroelectric power would be a solution, or even geothermal, but not fossil fuels--there's enough pollution already, and definitely not nuclear power."

"It's liberals like you that cause the problems and pretend the world is getting hotter to mess with business--"

"Would you stop it with the liberal-bashing already? This country is hardly liberal, and hasn't been in decades. And those so-called liberals that you complain about are responsible for what safeties we do have. People like you would gladly tear everything apart--the people and the environment be damned--in your quest for power and profits!"

Rose was about to add more, but the professor interrupted her. "You're getting off-topic here. Does anyone else have any comments to add?"

Rose ducked her head, writing furiously in her notebook, her mind working. Politics were fascinating, and she loved a good debate, even if she did conflict frequently with other opinionated people. But she couldn't just sit back and watch things fall apart. She had to do what she could when she thought it right, no matter how much she aggravated some people. She had always been that way, questioning the status quo and expressing herself, and her years of studying and watching the world around her had only strengthened that trait.


	85. The Activists 2

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Five**

Rose walked out of the building, hitching up the straps of her backpack. She would be meeting Mari and Lizzy for lunch, then going to work in the bookstore, taking Lizzy with her. Children were usually not wanted in the bookstore, but Rose's supervisor permitted her to bring Lizzy with her on Tuesdays, since Mari was in the lab and Jack was working. As long as Lizzy stayed reasonably quiet and Rose was able to keep an eye on her, there were no complaints.

Rose strolled toward the lunch area, then turned in surprise as she heard a little voice squeal, "Mommy!"

Lizzy ran toward her, Mari following close behind. Rose raised an eyebrow at the sight of a chain of dandelions in Lizzy's hair, but Mari just shrugged and looked a little sheepish.

"We went on a nature walk, and it's okay to pick weeds," she explained.

Lizzy tripped just as she reached her mother, her dandelion crown falling askew, but Rose scooped her up before she could fall and straightened the dandelion chain, lifting the toddler into her arms.

"Hey, Lizzy! Are you ready for lunch?"

"No."

Rose rolled her eyes. At two and a half years old, Lizzy's favorite word was no. It was annoying, but she knew that the child would outgrow this stage eventually.

"Do you want chicken or a hamburger today, Lizzy?" she asked, setting her down and letting her walk beside her.

"Chicken," Lizzy answered promptly, having not yet learned to say no when a choice was offered instead of a command.

Rose and Mari both laughed, drawing a confused look from the little girl, who didn't understand what was so funny. Each took one of the toddler's hands and walked her along toward the lunch area.

*****

"So, Lizzy, how was your nature walk?" Rose asked her daughter as they waited in line.

"Good," Lizzy told her. "We pick damned lions, and look at the caccus, and Aunt Mari said that poltion is bad for the plants."

"Poltion? Oh, pollution." Rose nodded her head. "She's right. Pollution is very bad."

"I don't like poltion."

"Me, either." Rose quickly ordered their food and took the trays, heading toward the checkout line.

Mari stepped into line behind them, a slice of pizza and some fruit on her tray.

"For a naturalist, you sure like junk food," Rose commented, eyeing the pizza.

"Pizza's not junk food," Mari protested. "It contains calcium, protein, and other essential things."

"Whatever you say."

"Hey, you eat it, too."

"Yes, but I'm a music and political science major, not a botanist."

"Speaking of political science, how was your class?"

"Interesting. We discussed development issues in Riverside, including water, energy, roads, jobs, and schools. Pollution got in there, too."

"Ah, yes. Stinking, nasty pollutionbe it air, water, soil, or what have you. I gave Lizzy a basic introduction to the evils of pollution."

"She told me. She doesn't like poltion."

"She's smart." Mari bent down to look at the child. "You're smart, Lizzy."

"I know," the little girl said modestly. "And you smart, and Mommy smart, and so Daddy. Were great."

Rose laughed, picking her daughter up and balancing her on her hip as she paid for their lunches. Sitting down at an outdoor table, she watched Lizzy dig into her lunch of chicken and an orange that Rose had peeled while standing in line.

"I should take that class you're in," Mari told Rose. "There's no prerequisite, is there?"

"No. I just took it because it's interesting."

"Well, politics are important for naturalists, too, and your professor sounds like he knows a lot."

"He does. And he's very good at thinking things through. He's on some environmental committee in the city, too."

"I heard that there's going to be a meeting of sorts between several major developers and the city council, with county officials there, too. They're going to be discussing the development of wasteland around Riverside."

"What wasteland?"

"Oh, places like the few remaining orchards, the hills behind UCR, the undeveloped land around the freeways...all the places that we can't possibly leave empty of pink-roofed houses and shopping centers."

"But they might actually build houses of a different color," Rose teased her. "Maybe some more of those purple-roofed ones with the orange walls."

"Don't get me started. Over-development is bad enough. Purple and orange houses are eyesores. At least the pink and white houses can be looked at without gagging. But I don't see why they want to develop the land along the freeways. Who wants to live with the sound of rushing vehicles all the time?"

"Do you really think the developers will tell people about the constant traffic when they buy the houses? Of course not. Then, people will complain, when anyone with half an ear could have heard the traffic on the freeway."

Mari grimaced. "Sounds about right. Perris has problems with too much development, too, though not quite as bad as here, because Perris is a very poor area and everybody knows it. What I don't understand is how the people in charge can be so foolish as to allow further development when there's not enough resources for the people already here."

"Why, don't you know? It would be undemocratic to not build more houses for the people who want them. Not that ignoring problems and letting them get further and further out of control is particularly democratic, or maybe it is, since no one does anything about it."

"Some people do. You do. You never have been able to keep your mouth shut when you thought something was wrong. And I've heard you sing. Believe it or not, some people are inspired by what you say."

"A few."

"More than a few. There's a good-sized group that comes to hear you and discuss issues whenever you sing here."

Rose gave her a surprised look. "Really? There is?"

"You need to get off the stage and mingle with the audience. You'll never be a real protest singer unless you mingle with the people who support you."

"I never really thought of myself as a protest singer."

Mari gave her a look. "Rose, you've often said that political activism is what you favor doing. And your music reflects that. You pick out a relevant song and let everyone know what you think."

Rose sighed, realizing that Mari was right. "I am a protest singer, aren't I? I didn't think about it, but I guess I am."

"You are," Mari assured her.

"Well, then...I've got an idea."

"Uh-oh."

Rose rolled her eyes at Mari. "Let's organize a protest of this meeting of city and county officials and the developers. You know, like those people who protest meetings of the WTO and the like."

"Sounds like trouble."

"We'll have even more trouble if no one speaks out. If everyone just sits back and does nothing, letting the politicians and developers do as they please, we'll wind up with more trouble than if we speak out. Even if nothing comes of it, as least we tried."

"Let me guessyou want my help."

"You don't like over-development and pollution, either. I should think this would interest you."

"It does, but...it can be dangerous to speak out, Rose. You know that. Remember what happened when you spoke out so loudly against cameras in voting booths?"

"I remember." In order to prevent voter fraud, a city council member had suggested cameras be placed in voting booths during the last election. Rose, concerned about issues of privacy and the possibility that people who disagreed with the status quo would become targets, had written letters to the newspaper, the city council, and local political organizations. She wasn't the only one who was concerned, but she was one of the most vocal. When she had spoken out at a city council meeting, she had been summarily escorted from the premises, "for inciting trouble," security had said. Outside, she had been pelted with rotten vegetables, eggs, and trash by people who disagreed with her. Someone had keyed her car, and nails had been placed under her tires in hopes of flattening them. Fortunately, Rose had seen the nails before any damage could be done and removed them.

She had gotten her point across, though. The incident had been highly publicized, and the number of people voting by absentee ballot had gone up in the area, at least for a while, though ultimately better sense and the law had won out and cameras were not placed in the voting booths.

"I know it can be dangerous, Mari," Rose told her, "but sitting back and pretending that nothing is happening will be more dangerous in the end. It's the people who speak out and do something who make a difference. If we hide our heads in the sand like ostriches, hoping that nothing bad will happen, we'll be just as bad as the people who don't care, or who assume that it's someone else's problem, or who support the problem itself. We know what's going on, and we have the resources and education to find out the facts and get the point across. And," she added, "I'm good at organizing."

"Rose..."

"Come on, Mari. Let's try to do something about the problem. If we can get people on our side, then we have a better chance of succeeding. The lone voice rarely gets anywhere, but when other people join in...that's when something happens."

Mari still looked reluctant, but she finally agreed. "Okay, Rose. I'll go along with youthis time. But if anyone throws garbage at me, they may find that I'm not as much of a pacifist as you are. I'll throw their precious garbage right back at them, and damn the consequences!"

Rose raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't disagree. "I've always damned the consequences myself, Mari. Just don't do anything illegal."

Mari sighed. "I'll do my best."


	86. The Activists 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Six

_Tuesday, April 24, 2007_

"Do we have everything?" Rose asked, looking through the pile of picket signs and flyers in the trunk of Mari's car.

"Looks like it. Are you sure you don't want to bring your guitar along? You are planning to sing, aren't you?"

Rose grimaced, shaking her head. "No. I know how easily something like this can turn into a melee. I can sing just fine without it, and the sound probably wouldn't carry in the crowd anyway."

Mari nodded, heading around to the driver's seat. She and Rose had spent the last two weeks organizing a protest against further development in the city of Riverside, posting notices and spreading the word to all who might be interested via e-mail and MySpace. They had even enlisted Jack's help in designing the flyers and signs, though they had done most of the work themselves.

Neither had had much time to rest the past two weeks, between classes, work, and organizing. Rose also had the responsibility of her family, though Jack had been very helpful, taking care of Lizzy when Rose was busy and doing her share of the housework. Rose wasn't sure what his thoughts on her efforts were, but he made no move to stop her, and his help with the flyers and signs was welcome and given freely.

All of them would be glad when the protest was over, and there were times when Rose doubted that protesting would do any good. Most likely, the people holding the meeting--city and county officials and developers--would regard the protesters as a nuisance, as a possible PR problem. But they would at least make their voices heard, and maybe get a few more people to think about the problem.

"Let's go," Rose told Mari, slipping into the front passenger seat. "We need to get there early so we can put out flyers and hand out picket signs."

*****

They arrived at Raincross Square at 12:30, though the meeting wasn't starting until two o'clock. Some of the soon-to-be protesters were already there, as well as a few officials and one of the development representatives. The protesters had been quiet thus far, hardly noticeable, but when Rose and Mari arrived and began to unload their stacks of flyers and picket signs, both security and those waiting for the meeting began to get nervous.

One security guard approached them, his eyes assessing their every move. "You ladies need to move along," he told them. "Pack everything up and leave."

Rose shook her head. "This parking lot is public property, and so is the sidewalk. As long as we don't obstruct traffic or disturb the peace, we have the right to be here."

"I asked you to leave."

"No," Mari told him. "We have the constitutional right to gather peaceably, and that's what we're doing." She and Rose both stared at him, knowing that they were right, but uncertain if he would acknowledge their rights.

Finally, he mumbled something under his breath. "You'd better not cause any trouble," he told them, turning and walking away.

"We don't intend to," Rose told him, hefting an armload of signs.

He just walked away, not acknowledging her comment. Mari made a rude gesture at his retreating back.

A few of the protesters had noticed them and gathered around, standing back from the confrontation with the security guard. Once the guard was gone, however, they came closer, talking amongst themselves and eyeing the piles of signs and flyers.

Several members of a campus environmental organization scooped up the flyers and began distributing them, placing them on cars in the parking lot and along the streets. Several other people sorted through the signs, choosing which ones they wanted to carry. One woman with a pair of toddlers in a wide stroller had made her own signs, attaching them to the stroller above her children's heads.

"Thank you so much for organizing this," she told Rose and Mari. "I want my children to grow up in a clean, uncrowded city. This urban sprawl has gone too far."

"Well," Rose said, "we can't guarantee that this will help, but at least we can make our voices heard."

"Expressing your opinion is the first step in change," the woman agreed. "If no one ever says a word and just hides from the problem, hoping it will go away, then things will just get worse and worse. The least we can do is make our voices heard."

"How did you hear about the protest?" Rose asked. The woman looked older than most college students, though that wasn't necessarily an indicator.

"I live in the same apartment complex as Mari," she replied, glancing toward her neighbor, who was busy directing people to the pile of signs and to the area the planned to protest in. "She told us about it. My boyfriend and I--he would be here, but he has to work--want a healthy world for our children."

Rose nodded. "I know how you feel. I have a little girl about their age." She looked at the napping toddlers, a boy and a girl.

"Lizzy Dawson?"

"Yes," Rose replied, surprised. "Have you met her?"

"Mari brings her over to play with the twins once in a while. Not that they really know how to play together, though. Theyre all pretty young yet. By the way, I'm Sandra Montoya."

"I'm Rose Dawson." They shook hands. "It looks like more of the people attending this meeting are arriving, so we should go over by the building to greet them."

Sandra nodded, waiting as Rose picked up a sign reading _Preserve Open Space_ and walked across the street with her. They couldn't park at the convention center itself, but there was other parking nearby, much of which was filling up as more and more people arrived.

Rose looked around a little nervously. She hadn't expected so many people to show up, and there was no telling who was there to protest and who was there to make trouble. And even peaceful protests could turn ugly very quickly. The sheer numbers showing up increased the likelihood that it would become a mob scene.

She turned to Sandra. "Maybe you should stay at the outside of the crowd. If something should happen, it would be easier to get away, especially with those two kids."

"Have you protested before?"

"Not like this, but...yes, I have protested things, and I know that things can go wrong. That's why I think you should stay where you can make an easy getaway. I dont want to see those kids getting hurt."

Sandra nodded. "It'll be easier for people to see the signs near the street, anyway. Thanks."

Rose nodded, watching as Sandra pushed the stroller, the two signs bobbing along, before turning to search for Mari.

Mari was near the front of the crowd, distributing flyers to the disgruntled officials and developers. A few stopped to read them, but others simply stuffed them in a pocket or briefcase, or dropped them on the ground to be trampled. Pasting on her sweetest smile, Rose went to help.

*****

By the time the meeting started, nearly seventy-five people had gathered outside the convention center, carrying signs, marching back and forth, or just milling around, caught up in the excitement. The tension was palpable, especially after several police officers showed up to keep the crowd under control.

Rose wasn't sure she trusted the police, but she knew that someone had to be present if things got out of control. The last thing they needed was a riot.

Rose pulled out a whistle and blew it, getting people's attention. Dropping the whistle, she picked up a megaphone she had borrowed and began to speak.

"I hope you all know why we're here today," she began. "This city--in fact, this whole county, and many surrounding it--have overburdened their resources to the point that we are nearing a crisis. And yet the development still continues, and the population continues to increase. We have less and less open space, less and less places where people can breathe fresh air, where children can play safely, and where people can seek respite from the stresses of day-to-day life. The schools are overcrowded and the roads gridlocked. We don't have room for further development, and yet the people inside this building are planning to do just that. If we are to have any hope of a decent future for this city, we need to make our voices heard. And that is why we're here today. To let the powers that be know that we won't sit back quietly and watch this city develop itself into ruins."

The crowd broke into applause. As Rose stepped back into the crowd, some members of the crowd responded to her speech.

"Let's kill them!" yelled one young man, waving his sign threateningly. The police officers tensed, ready for a confrontation.

"Shut up!" another young man responded, smacking the heckler on the back of the head.

"No killing!" Rose shouted. "No violence at all! We need to show them that decent people want a better world! And," she added, "I'm assuming that we're all decent--at least some of the time."

That got a laugh. As several protesters lifted their signs and began to march up and down in front of the convention center, she launched into her first song.

_Little boxes on the hillside  
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky..._

Several people who knew the song joined her, including Mari, who couldn't stay on key to save her life, but was capable of showing support and convincing other people to join in.

From time to time, someone from the meeting would shout at them to be quiet, but this only inflamed the protesters further, resulting in louder shouting and singing. Rose went through two other songs, _This Land is Your Land _and _What Have They Done to the Rain?_ before quieting and letting the other protesters speak for themselves.

Traffic had slowed on the street going past the convention center, the drivers slowing down to see what was going on. Most just stared for a moment before moving on, but a few shouted comments, both for and against the protesters, or honked their horns supportively, and a couple stopped and joined in.

Rose wasn't sure how it started, but someone in a passing car threw a glass bottle against the wall of the convention center. It shattered, spraying broken glass over the crowd. Someone screamed, and in an instant the peaceful protest had turned into a pushing, shoving melee, with people running in confusion, dropping signs, and running into the street and toward the front doors of the building. Brakes squealed as drivers tried to avoid hitting the people in the street. Rose caught sight of a security guard rushing to lock the doors before the crowd could get in.

"Stop!" she shouted. "Calm down!"

But her shouts only served to further aggravate the already panicked crowd. Even as the police officers rushed to control the crowd and call for backup, a fight broke out near her.

One of the fighters jostled Mari, kicking her hard in the shin. Without thinking, she raised her picket sign and sent it crashing down on the head of woman who'd kicked her, sending her staggering.

"Mari, no!" Rose shouted, grabbing her friend's arm and trying to pull her away. Before she could say anything more, someone grabbed her from behind and snapped a pair of handcuffs on her.

"What? What's going on?" Rose sputtered, whirling around to see the same cop handcuffing a struggling, cursing Mari.

"You have the right to remain silent..." The cop pushed both of them toward a waiting police car.

"But I didn't do anything!" Rose protested.

"Just get in the car!" he told them, shoving them both toward the open door.

Shaking, Rose did as she was told, struggling to climb in while wearing the handcuffs, while Mari continued to drag her feet and swear. Things had not gone at all as she had hoped, and now she was in more trouble than she had ever been in her life.


	87. The Activists 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Seven

_Tuesday, April 24, 2007  
Robert Presley Detention Center  
Riverside, California_

Rose stared out the window as the police car approached the Robert Presley Detention Center, Riverside's jail. Mari had fallen silent, but continued to give defiant looks to the officer whenever he glanced her way.

Rose felt like throttling her. It was Mari's fault that they were in this fix--if she had only restrained herself from hitting that woman over the head with a picket sign, they wouldn't have gotten arrested--and Mari still didn't seem to understand how much trouble they were in. Her continued defiance was not likely to make things better.

_Or maybe,_ Rose thought, as she caught Mari's eye, _she does know how much trouble we're in._ Mari often used bravado and defiance to cover fear, nervousness, or stress. And the look in Mari's eye was definitely frightened. Neither of them had ever been arrested before, and neither was sure what to expect. Mari had never even set foot inside a jail, while Rose's only visits to jail had been to free Jack and to confront Cal, neither of which she talked much about. Jack had told her about his time in juvenile hall, though, and most of those stories hadn't been pleasant.

They arrived at the jail and were hustled inside. After their handcuffs were removed, each woman was photographed standing against the wall. Mari made a rude noise and aimed a stiff middle finger at the camera before finally cooperating. After that, they were searched, and most of their belongings--particularly anything that might be used as a weapon--were confiscated, to be returned when they were released.

They were sent to separate cells, to keep them from getting together and causing trouble. Rose was in a cell with three other women, all of whom looked her over disdainfully when she was pushed inside and the barred door locked after her.

Rose looked at her cellmates evenly, not wanting to get into any more trouble. She had no idea how long she would have to stay there, or what she would be charged with. One of the guards was going to escort her to make a phone call in an hour or so, but she had to deal with her cellmates for now.

The other three women stared at her. Rose wondered what they were in for--something minor, like prostitution or vagrancy, or something more serious, like a violent crime?

Finally, one of them spoke. "Look what we have here. What's the matter, honey? You get caught joyriding or something? Take off with your ex-boyfriend's car or something?" She snickered.

Rose responded, her voice level. "Actually, I'm not sure what I'm in here for. I think I was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Ain't that the truth," another said. "You're always in the wrong place at the wrong time if you get arrested. So, what did you do?"

"I'm not sure what I'm being charged with."

"What do you think you did?"

Rose tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. Inciting a riot, maybe? Disturbing the peace? Insulting the wrong people?"

The third woman, who had been sitting quietly in a corner of the cell, spoke up. "Ain't you Rose Dawson? That singer?"

Rose was surprised at being recognized, and wary. "I am."

"You rich?"

Rose smirked, shaking her head. "Hardly. If I was rich, I wouldn't have to worry about finding cheap daycare for my daughter."

"Why bother? Just teach her to behave."

"She's two years old!"

"So's my kid, and he knows what'll happen if he does anything."

"That's why he was taken away from you and given to your ex-boyfriend," one of the other women responded. "'Cause you beat him half to death."

"He deserved it. That's how you keep kids in line--good, solid discipline."

Rose looked at her, her mouth twisting with contempt. "I rarely spank Lizzy, and she's a good kid."

"You think you're better than me?"

"If the shoe fits..."

"Oh, shut up already." The first woman who had spoken to Rose glowered at them all. "I'm fucking sick of listening to you fight."

"I'm putting her in her place," the other woman retorted.

"You're nothing but a child abuser. At least I didn't hurt anyone."

"Probably just spread around disease."

"It's not my fault if the men are too stupid to protect themselves."

That answered the question about what two of them were in for--prostitution and child abuse. Curious, Rose turned to the third woman, who was just watching the three of them.

"What did you do?" Rose asked her.

"Crack."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Selling, buying, or using?"

"I don't sell that shit, and my husband bought it. I just used it. And the son of a bitch turned me over to the cops. I got him back, though." She smirked. "I told them it was him who bought the crack, and they arrested him, too."

A guard came to the door. "Rose Dawson? You can make your call now." She unlocked the door, letting Rose out.

Rose walked stiffly, uncomfortable with being watched so closely, as she was escorted to the phone. Once there, she had no privacy to make her call, but could only turn her back on the guard while she called Jack.

He answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Jack?"

"Rose? Rose, where are you? It's past six! I got a call at work from the daycare center, because no one had come to pick Lizzy up. I had to leave early and get her. Where the hell are you?"

"Uh...Jack...I'm in trouble. I'm at the Robert Presley Detention Center."

"You're in jail? Shit, Rose, what did you do?"

"I'm not sure. I think I offended the wrong people."

"I heard that there was a disturbance down where you were protesting. This wouldn't be related to that, would it?"

"Well...yes. But I didn't do anything. I got arrested when I was trying to stop Mari from beating someone over the head with a sign."

Jack sighed. "I don't want to know."

"I didn't do anything."

Jack paused, then responded. "I believe you, Rose. Have they set bail yet?"

"No."

"What are you being charged with?"

"Nothing...yet."

"You're in jail, and youre not being charged with anything?"

"Not yet."

"They'd better either charge you with something or let you out soon. That's illegal."

"Maybe. You know this sort of imprisonment has increased in the past few years."

Jack sighed again. "I know. Rose, if they haven't released you or charged you with something by morning, I'm going to contact Maggie Browning, the lawyer who helped clear my record."

"How will you find out what's going on?"

"I'll find out. Just trust me. And this will undoubtedly be in the paper tomorrow. Besides, if you're released, you can just give me a call and I'll come pick you up."

"Mari's here, too."

"Well, if they let Mari out, I'll give her a ride, too."

"She's being charged with fighting and disturbing the peace."

"You and your ideas..."

"I did the right thing, and I know it, though I wish it hadn't gotten out of control, and I think Mari should have refrained from hitting anyone--even though they kicked her first."

"I think fighting and disturbing the peace are only misdemeanors. Hopefully she won't be in too much trouble."

"I hope I'm not in much trouble, either."

"I hope not, too. Rose, I'll see what I can do, okay?"

"Okay." She paused. "Jack, I have to get off the phone now. If I'm not released soon, could you come and see me, please?"

"Sure. I'll be there."

"Thanks, Jack. I love you."

"I love you, too, Rose. Try not to offend anyone, okay? Jail is not a pleasant place to be."

"So I've noticed." Rose sighed. "Bye, Jack. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Rose."

As soon as she hung up the phone, Rose was escorted back to her cell.

"So who did you call? Your lawyer?" one of her cellmates asked.

"My husband. He'll call a lawyer for me, if I need one."

"You'll need one. Get a good one, if you can. Those public defenders are no damned good."

"Some of them are, some of them aren't," Rose responded miserably. She wasn't looking forward to spending the night in jail--or possibly even longer. But she still wasn't sorry that she'd organized the protest--only how it had turned out.

"Why'd you get arrested?" another of her cellmates asked, bringing up the subject again. "Were you protesting something?"

"Naturally. How else would I get in trouble?" Rose asked. "Don't answer that," she added, seeing the child abuser about to open her mouth.

"What were you protesting?"

"Out-of-control development in the area. We--my friend Mari and I--organized a protest of this meeting of city and county officials and developers. It got a little out of hand."

"I heard about that," the prostitute told her. "My sister, Sandra, was gonna be there."

"Sandra who?" Rose asked, wondering if Sandra Montoya was the sister she was talking about.

"Sandra Montoya."

"She was there, with her twins but without her boyfriend," Rose told her. "I don't think she got arrested."

"No, she didn't. I would have heard about it if she had been."

"So you really protest things?" the crack smoker asked her.

"If I think something is wrong, I say so. I've been doing that since high school. I once made an impromptu speech about how people should have the right to smoke pot if they want. I also protested the dress code at a pep rally."

"Yeah, you're right. About the pot smoking, I mean. Why should something that doesn't hurt anyone else be a crime?"

"Some people say there are no victimless crimes, because someone always gets hurt."

"There's not many victimless activities," the prostitute pointed out. "Everything could hurt someone. You could drive your car, nice and sober, and never go above the speed limit, and always stop at the red lights and everything, and still get in an accident."

"True," Rose agreed, nodding.

The child abuser spoke up. "When you breathe, you use the air someone else could be using. I bet somebody will make that illegal someday--or at least make it too fucking expensive."

"It wouldn't surprise me," Rose said dryly. It seemed like far too many laws were made specifically to benefit a few people--those with money. Involuntarily, an image of Cal flashed into her mind. He had gotten away with a lot before his attempt to murder herself and Jack. Pushing the image away, she looked up as the crack smoker spoke up.

"Maybe you could organize a protest in here," she suggested.

"Um..." Rose hesitated. She was in enough trouble already.

"Not like a riot or anything. Besides, you're already in jail. What else can they do?"

"Give me a long prison sentence?" Rose suggested.

"Nah. You're white. They won't do anything to you."

"Uh-huh." Rose could think of several white people who were in prison or had been in prison for committing crimes--like Cal, although she couldn't help but wonder if he would have received a more harsh sentence had he been a minority--or even poor. Justice was often meted out unevenly, with harsher sentences given to the poor and minorities, regardless of the severity of the crime.

"I'll do it," she decided, getting up and standing in front of the door, her back to it. "It's important to stand up for what's right, no matter what the consequences are. It's not right that people should go to jail for crimes that harm no one, and it's not right that people are treated differently because they're poor or not white. Everyone should be treated equally--but theyre not. Let's say something about it."

Her organizational skills coming to the forefront, Rose began discussing ideas with the other women, still wondering at the situation she had found herself in.


	88. The Activists 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Eight

_Wednesday, April 25, 2007  
Robert Presley Detention Center  
Riverside, California_

Jack walked slowly into the lobby of the Robert Presley Detention Center, Lizzy toddling along beside him. Rose had called him half an hour earlier to tell him that she had been released and needed to be picked up.

Rose was sitting in the lobby, thumbing idly through an ancient magazine, when he arrived, looking none the worse for her night in jail. She hadn't told him why she'd been released, or exactly what had happened, promising to tell him when she didn't have an audience.

She looked up as he came in, setting the magazine aside. Leaping to her feet, she ran to him and hugged him, then scooped Lizzy up and swung her around.

"Mommy!" The little girl giggled in delight. Shed been very worried when her mother hadn't come home the night before, even after her father had explained to her that Rose had gotten into some trouble and was doing a grown-up's time out.

"Lizzy!" Rose gave her a hug, then set her down. "It's about time you got here," she told Jack. "I was about ready to start walking. After all, UCR is only a couple of miles away, and I've walked so much since we've been there that it would be a piece of cake. But I didn't want to worry you by disappearing. Besides, Mari told me that they were going to release her this morning, too, so I was waiting for her."

"Well, we're glad to have you back. What happened, by the way? Did someone bail you out? Do you have to show up in court?"

Rose shook her head. "They let me out because I'm not being charged with anything. The cop who arrested me is in trouble for doing so. It seems that he's repeatedly arrested people who are not committing crimes and are not suspected of committing crimes--mainly people who happen to annoy some bigwig. But I think he's done it one time too many."

"And what about Mari?"

"You were right. She's only being charged with misdemeanors. She has to be in court tomorrow, but she shouldn't be in too much trouble--she'll probably just get a few days in jail or community service."

"And when did you get to be a legal expert?"

Rose shrugged, then grinned. "One of my cellmates was a hooker. She's been arrested several times, so she knows a lot about how these things work."

"You do meet some interesting people, Rose."

"Hey, I'm not the only jailbird around here." She looked at him significantly.

Jack nodded, conceding her point. "So, how was your night in jail?"

"Well...I've had more pleasant experiences...but I survived. I...um...I tried to start a new protest, over the fact that minorities and the poor tend to get harsher sentences for the same crimes and are arrested more often than those who happen to be rich and white, and also speaking out against filling the prisons with people who haven't actually harmed anyone." She paused, looking a bit guilty. "It didn't work so well. I thought it was a good idea, and so did my cellmates--they were the ones who gave me the idea in the first place--but the guards were afraid they'd have a riot on their hands, so they shut it down pretty fast and separated me from the others. I wound up in a cell by myself where I couldn't start anything." She looked up at him. "I'm still not sorry, though, about anything except that the demonstration at Raincross Square got out of hand."

"Your demonstration, out of control or not, may have helped, believe it or not. There was an article about it on the front page of the newspaper this morning, and then there was a smaller article saying that the plans to develop the hills behind UCR have been canceled."

"Really?" Rose's eyes lit up. "Then there is a point to speaking out!"

"It may have been just the push that was needed. Then again," Jack cautioned her, "it may have been something else that made the developers and city council people change their minds, but I think the newspaper supported the decision. In spite of their claims of unbiased reporting, the Press-Enterprise doesn't hide the opinions of its editors well."

Rose grabbed his hands, whirling him around. "This is great! Even if the protest wasn't the reason why things were decided for the better, it's still wonderful news." She picked Lizzy up. "Isn't it, Busy Lizzy?"

Lizzy just stared at her, not sure what was going on or what her mother was so excited about. She put a finger in her mouth, then giggled as her mother danced around with her.

Rose handed Lizzy to Jack. "I'm going to find out if Mari is going to be released any time soon. Then we can go." She walked up to the window separating several jail employees from the lobby.

"Can I help you?" The man at the desk looked at her strangely, wondering if she'd managed to obtain some illegal substance in jail. Rose's antics were unusual, to say the least.

"Mari Lopez is supposed to be released this morning. Do you know when she'll be out?"

The man stared at her, not sure how to answer the question. "I'm not sure I can give you that information," he told her. "Let me ask my supervisor."

Rose tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to come back. When he returned, she leaned on the desk. "Well?"

"We don't know when she'll be released. Her immigration status is being checked."

Rose gave him a confused look. "Her immigration status? Why do you need to check that? She was born in this city."

"Until we can get those records--and that can take some time, bureaucracy being what is--she'll have to stay here. We need to make sure she isn't here illegally."

"Mari's not an immigrant. She was born in Riverside!"

"We have to check."

"Then why aren't you checking my background, then? I might be an illegal immigrant."

"There's no indication that you're not an American."

"Why? Because I'm white and have the last name of Dawson? My maiden name was DeWitt-Bukater--quite a mouthful. How do you know I'm not here illegally?"

The man sighed, annoyed. "We're psychic."

Rose stared at him, her mouth twisting in contempt. "Bullshit!"

"Besides, your husband is American--Im assuming the man over there is your husband?"

Rose nodded, but didn't give up. "He's from Wisconsinup near another foreign country, Canada. How do you know he's not Canadian?"

"Because, if what you say is true, he's from Wisconsin, which is in the United States. Now, get out of here."

"Well, if you believe me about him, why don't you believe me about Mari?"

"Look, lady..."

"It's because her last name is Lopez, isn't it? A Hispanic name--which you assume means she's an illegal immigrant from Mexico--even though she was born in Riverside."

"Look, I don't have anything to do with it. It's the judge's call, not mine. Now--"

"If I bring a copy of her birth certificate from the county, will you let her out?"

"No."

"Well, then, if you're going to violate her rights as an American citizen, youll have to violate mine, too. I'm going back in."

She strode to the door leading to the area where visitors could talk to inmates, only to find it locked. Yelling, she banged on the door, demanding to be let in.

"Rose!" Jack called, setting Lizzy in a chair and hurrying after her. "Stop! Do you want to get into more trouble?"

A guard from the lobby took hold of her arm. "You're being released from jail, and that's final. You've caused enough trouble already."

"No!" Rose yanked her arm away, heading for the door again.

Jack was about to stop her when the guard shouted at him, "She's your wife! Call her off!"

At that, he stepped back. Call Rose off? Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. She was his wife, not his dog--and she had a mind of her own. He wasn't about to try to stop her.

The guard had pinned her arms to her side. Even as she kicked and shouted furiously, he picked her up and carried her toward the door.

"Put me down! Put me down right now! You're not supposed to touch me!"

"You're right." He set her down at the door, opened it, and shoved her through. "I don't want to see you back in here!" He slammed the door behind her.

Jack waited a moment, not sure if Rose would come bursting through the door again, then followed her out. She was stalking across the parking lot toward the car, her posture giving away her fury.

"Rose..." He caught up to her, Lizzy balanced on his hip.

Rose just stomped around to the passenger side of the car. "That sanctimonious son of a bitch!"

Jack knew better than to argue with her when she was in this mood. Unlocking the doors, he buckled Lizzy into her seat and got into the car, giving Rose a chance to calm down.

But at the sight of her mutinous, scowling face, her lower lip stuck out comically, he couldn't help it. He started laughing, inciting more ire from Rose.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, glowering at him.

"I'm sorry, Rose, but that scene in there..." He clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stop laughing, to no avail. "I've never seen anyone so determined to go back to jail before."

"They're violating Mari's rights. She is a citizen. Some of her ancestors have streets named after them!"

Jack finally stopped laughing. "Be that as it may, you won't help her by breaking into jail. That will just cause more trouble. Trust me on this."

"They won't even let me help clear her name! I could get her birth certificate from the county records and bring it in, but no. They want her to sit in jail while they fight through the _red tape_! And here you sit, laughing about it!"

"That's not what I was laughing at. You looked so funny--"

"Don't tell me how funny I look! I'm trying to do the right thing here!"

"Look, Rose, I know you're trying to help. And you're right. There's plenty of proof that Mari is an American citizen--and it shouldn't be that hard to find. Driver's license, social security number, university records, birth certificate...all of those. But staying in jail won't help. You can probably do more good out here by finding out why this happens."

"Save me the 'I know more about jail than you' spiel, Jack. I don't want to hear it right now. Let's just go back to the college, okay?"

"Fine." Jack sighed, pulling out of the parking lot and turning back toward University Avenue. They drove back to the university in silence.


	89. The Activists 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Eighty-Nine

_Wednesday, April 25, 2007  
University of California, Riverside_

The Dawsons were surrounded by reporters as soon as they pulled into the parking lot. One reporter from a local television station, microphone in hand, knocked on Rose's window, gesturing to her to roll it down. Rose ignored him, turning her attention to Lizzy, who had begun to cry, frightened by the commotion.

Jack honked the horn, pulling slowly into a parking pace as the reporters backed off a little. He was surprised they hadn't been at the jail, but maybe someone had ordered them away. If they had been there, they would have gotten quite a story, Rose's temper being what it was. Some of it would probably have been unprintable.

He got out of the car, pushing past a reporter from the university newspaper. "No comment," he told her, holding up a hand when she began to object. He moved to open the back door and get Lizzy out, but Rose had beaten him to it.

Rose pushed aside two reporters, one of whom tried to put a microphone in her face, the other of whom asked her if she planned to continue her political activism in light of what had happened.

"Yes, I do plan to continue my political activism," she said, loud enough for all to hear if they were paying attention. "And that's all I'm saying." She opened the door, unbuckling the crying toddler from her car seat. "Come on, Busy Lizzy. You don't need to cry. They won't hurt you." Picking the child up, she held her against her shoulder, rubbing her back soothingly.

Lizzy continued to wail. Another reporter walked up to Rose, holding up a small tape recorder. "Rose, what—"

"No comment," Rose told him, echoing Jack's words. When several other reporters crowded around her, blocking her way, she repeated, more loudly, "I said no comment! Get lost! Can't you see you're scaring my daughter?"

Jack joined them, putting an arm around Rose and escorting her out of the parking lot. "No comment," he told the reporters repeatedly. "No comment."

Although several reporters followed them to their home, Jack let Rose and Lizzy go inside first, then shut the door and locked it. Rose set Lizzy down and drew the blinds, keeping anyone from looking in.

Lizzy had finally stopped crying. Jack picked her up, wiping her nose with a tissue, and turned to Rose, but stopped when he saw how angry Rose still was.

"Damn them!" she burst out. "What do they think they're doing, pushing and shoving to get a story and scaring Lizzy?"

"That's what reporters do," Jack told her mildly. "Get stories. That's their job."

"They need to show a little sensitivity! There's a small child here!"

"Frankly, I didn't expect this to be such a big story. Of course, near riots don't happen every day, and you did help organize the protest."

"Yes, but so did Mari."

"You're more accessible. Mari's still in jail."

"Where she shouldn't be!"

"Well, then, go out and tell the reporters that. Get some publicity for your cause."

"I'd be more than happy to talk to them if they weren't so obnoxious."

"Maybe you could arrange a time to talk to them, those who still want the story?"

Rose glared at him, still upset, then abruptly turned on her heel. Stepping out the front door, she closed it behind her and announced loudly to those gathered around, "Listen to me!" When they began to ask questions, Rose stepped back, then finally shouted, "Shut up! Let me talk!"

From inside, a little voice echoed, "Yeah! Shut up!"

Lizzy's voice was quickly followed by Jack's voice. "Shh, Lizzy. Let your mommy talk."

Rose turned to see them looking out a partially open window. Ignoring them, she turned back to the reporters. "I'm only going to say this once, so you'd better listen. I helped to organize yesterday's protest, but I do not in any way consider myself responsible for the near riot that took place. Through no fault of my own, or of my co-organizer, Mari Lopez, things got out of control. Fortunately, the police were nearby, and kept things from getting even more out of hand. I was released from jail this morning without being charged with anything, other than being terminally annoying. Mari is being charged with disturbing the peace and fighting. However, that is not why she is still in jail. She is being held while her immigration status is being checked, which is a travesty of justice. Mari Lopez is an American citizen, born in the city of Riverside in 1984. Considering that the county records are kept in this city and are easily available to the public, there is no reason why she should be detained for any extra length of time. Considering how easily available information is, her records should be easy to bring up from any computer. I believe that the reason she is being held is that she is Hispanic, since she had American identification with her—a driver's license—and because there was no effort made to check my immigration status, in spite of the fact that I was arrested right along with her. That's all I have to say."

She turned to go back inside, ignoring the barrage of additional questions directed her way. Briefly, she considered slamming the door in their faces, but knew that such behavior would only make them more curious. Steeling herself, she closed the door quietly and locked it behind her.

Jack set Lizzy down beside her. "I have to be in class in ten minutes. We can work things out later."

"What are we going to do with Lizzy?"

Jack looked at her in surprise. "I thought you were going to watch her."

"Me? I have a class in half an hour."

"Take her with you."

"Why can't you take her with you?"

"Because I have art class, and there's a million things she could get into trouble with in there."

"And you think she'd behave any better in political science?"

"At least she can't make a mess in there."

"Trust me, Jack. Two-year-olds can get into trouble anywhere."

"Well, we'd better think of something. We can't leave her alone, and her baby-sitter is in jail. Maybe you could take her to the daycare center?"

Rose looked at the clock. "We don't have time. I guess she'll just have to come with me."

"I guess she will."

"Fine."

They glared at each other for a moment before Jack picked up his books and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Rose looked down at Lizzy, who looked ready to cry again.

"Come on, Busy Lizzy. Let's get ready for school."

*****

Rose's professor, Barbara Rhode, was not happy to see her show up in class with the toddler in tow. She stared at Rose for a moment, then at Lizzy, who put her fingers in her mouth and hid her head in her mother's shoulder.

"You know children don't belong in class," she told Rose. "I'm surprised even you showed up. I thought you were in jail."

"They let me out," Rose explained, "without charging me with anything. The cop who arrested me is in trouble. Apparently he arrests people without cause too often."

Professor Rhode nodded thoughtfully. "Are you sure it was without cause?"

"I wasn't doing anything illegal, and I wasn't charged with anything, either. Besides, that's what the guard who escorted me out told me."

"Well, whatever the reason, you're welcome to come to class, but your daughter isn't."

"I don't have any other place to leave her. Her baby-sitter is still in jail, and her dad is in art class. She won't make any trouble. I promise. I brought some things for her to play with quietly, and if she gets fussy I'll take her out. We'll sit in the back, so I can remove her easily if I need to."

Professor Rhode looked around quickly, to be sure no administrator was around, then sighed. "You can keep her with you at the back of the lecture hall. But I don't know anything about it, and keep her where I can't see her, so that no one questions me about it."

Rose smiled. "Of course. Thank you."

*****

Lizzy behaved very well during the class, scribbling in a coloring book and playing with a set of blocks on the desk, though she did begin to get fussy about being hungry toward the end of class. Rose, though, couldn't concentrate.

_I really shouldn't have been so hard on Jack,_ she thought, jotting down a few notes from the lecture. _He didn't arrest me, and he's not the one who thinks Mari needs to stay in jail. He did laugh at me, but maybe I overreacted. I was mad, and he made a convenient target._

_I should apologize to him,_ Rose thought, picking up a block that Lizzy had dropped. _We usually have lunch together on Wednesdays, so maybe I can apologize then._

But when class let out, Rose went to meet Jack in the usual place in front of building, only to see him rush up to her, obviously in a hurry.

"Rose, I won't be able to have lunch with you two today. I have a project that's due by two o'clock, and I have to finish it now."

Rose sighed. "Jack, I wanted to talk to you during lunch."

"I'm sorry, Rose, but I have to get this done. It's an important part of my grade."

"All right." Rose gave him an annoyed look. "Go ahead. Lizzy and I will have lunch by ourselves. You will be able to watch her this afternoon, won't you?"

"Well, yes. I'll get her at two o'clock, and that'll leave you time to go to class and then to work."

"Do you know where to meet me, to pick Lizzy up?"

"In front of Hinderaker Hall?"

Rose nodded. "As usual. I'll be home around seven."

"Okay." Jack would have given her a quick kiss, but Rose still looked miffed, so he just gave Lizzy a pat on the back and hurried back to his classroom to finish his project.

*****

Rose walked in the door just after seven o'clock. Setting her backpack down, she made her way into the kitchen, where Jack was finishing making dinner. Lizzy was sitting on the floor, licking a spoon, and Rose could smell cookies baking.

_A peace offering,_ she realized. Jack didn't like fighting any more than she did, and he was trying to make it up to her for the disruption in her plans that morning.

She walked in quietly, opening the oven and peeking inside. "Smells good," she commented, taking the now clean spoon from Lizzy and setting her in her booster seat.

Jack turned around, tossing the salad greens into a bowl. "Rose! I didn't hear you come in."

"I sneaked up on you," she replied, giving him a half-smile. "Jack...I'm sorry about getting so mad this morning. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"I apologize, too, Rose. I shouldn't have laughed at you—even if you did have an expression worthy of Lizzy on your face."

Rose's hand flew to her face. "I did not!"

Jack, knowing better than to argue, just set the salad bowl on a table. "We can talk later, okay?"

Rose nodded. "Sure." She began dishing up a child-size portion of food to Lizzy.

Jack took the utensils from her. "You've had a long day—let me do that."

Rose, who had to admit that she was tired, only nodded, allowing him to serve all three of them.

*****

Jack and Rose came back down the hall after tucking Lizzy into bed and reading her a story. The child, worn out from the long, eventful day, had fallen asleep before the story was finished. Her parents had pulled the covers up over her, each giving her a good night kiss before letting her sleep, leaving her door open a crack in case she needed something.

They went out into the living room, where Jack shut off the television and sat next to Rose on the couch. She looked at her hands for a moment before beginning.

"Jack, I...I want to apologize for being so unpleasant today. I guess...well...I was kind of upset, and I took it out on you."

"Kind of upset?"

Rose sighed. "Okay, very upset. I admit...I was kind of scared of spending time in jail. I mean, I've heard your stories of when you were in juvenile hall, and most them weren't very pleasant, so I was...worried about what jail would be like for me. I'm not one of those really tough people who can laugh off something like that—and I hadn't even done anything wrong. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But you survived."

"Yeah." Rose smiled. "Yeah, I did. I guess I was actually pretty safe, since they put me in a cell by myself so I couldn't cause trouble. Not that speaking out is really causing trouble," she added, almost to herself.

"Did you sleep at all during your night there?"

"A little—with my back pressed against the wall and my fists curled so that I could defend myself if need be. I may have been alone in that cell, but that didn't make me feel any safer."

Jack put a tentative arm around her. "Well, I'm glad they let you out without charging you with anything, though I still think they shouldn't have arrested you at all."

"I don't think so either, but...I was arrested, and I've learned some new things now. I think that's valuable, at least."

"Even if it is stressful."

"Uh-huh. I think that may have been part of why I threw such a tantrum in the lobby of the jail this morning—I was letting off steam. Of course, I meant what I said, too. They're treating Mari unfairly."

"Rose, forgive me for laughing, but that was a tantrum worthy of Lizzy—except you actually thought about what made you mad, whereas with Lizzy she's usually mad about some little thing, and quickly forgets what she was mad about."

"Well, there's a big difference between a two-year-old and twenty-three-year-old. I feel kind of embarrassed now. I must have sounded like a lunatic."

When Jack didn't say anything, she looked up at him. He was grinning at her, apparently agreeing with her words. But before she could say anything, he told her, "Rose, I respect what you're trying to do. You're trying to make the world a better place by speaking out. Not many people are willing to do that. A lot of them don't care enough to say anything, and others are afraid. You aren't."

"I am afraid, sometimes."

"But you don't let it stop you, and you always have spoken your mind, all the years that I've known you. You've got a lot of bravery, and more strength than you know. Still..."

Rose looked at him closely. "What?"

"It did occur to me that there might be…safer…ways of speaking out. Demonstrations are all well and good, but as you saw yesterday, they can get out of control."

Rose sighed in exasperation. "What should I do, then? Sit back and pretend nothing's happening?"

"Of course not. But organizing a demonstration yourself, when you've never even been to one before, can be kind of dangerous."

"I once stood in front of the supermarket in Masline with a joint in my hand making a speech about how marijuana should be legal."

"I think you said that once, but let me ask you something…how many other people were involved?"

"Well, a couple of stoners were there…not that they did anything…and my friends were there, even if they were pretending they didn't know me and staying as far away as possible, especially when the cops showed up."

"How did you manage to not get arrested then?"

"I didn't have the joint anymore—I'd borrowed it from one of the stoners and he wanted it back. So I was just talking—I wasn't actually in possession of anything."

"Lucky for you."

"True enough."

"But my point is, Rose, that maybe you should work with other people who have some experience with this, rather than just going it alone. Obviously, you're not the only one who has strong views and wants to express them. There have been more and more political organizations formed in the past few years, more and more people joining them—expressing all kinds of views on all kinds of topics. I've seen demonstrations all over the place—about the war, about the environment, about the presidential election a few years ago—lots of things. Some I've agreed with, some I haven't. Sometimes you'll have opposing views on different sides of the same street."

Rose nodded. "I've seen them, too…that kind of inspired me to organize my own."

"You shouldn't go it alone, though. That can be really dangerous."

"I wasn't alone. Mari was helping, and lots of people showed up."

"And it turned into a near-riot. I've been thinking about this, Rose—especially last night, when you were in jail. One person alone might have a lot to say, but by themselves, they can be ignored or crushed easily enough." He smiled slightly, thinking of a game Lizzy played with her stuffed animals that showed his point perfectly. "It's like a mouse taking on a lion. The mouse might nip the lion, but it doesn't hurt the lion much and the mouse quickly gets eaten." He sighed as Rose gave him a strange look. "What I'm saying is that you have to work with other people—lots of people—so that you're not a lone voice that can be drowned out or silenced. You have to find a way to make your point sound reasonable and valid, even to people who don't necessarily agree with you. Starting a riot just makes you look like a crackpot."

Rose glared at him. "It wasn't a riot."

"A near-riot, then. But if you work with people who have experience organizing, if you work with the authorities rather than regarding them as the enemy, you're a lot more likely to get your point across. There's organizations on campus, in Riverside, on the Internet…lots of people you can work with. I know you want to take the lead, but maybe it's better to work your way up slowly…and remember, just because people don't agree with you on everything doesn't mean you can't find common ground, and that's something we need these days, with so much divisiveness over politics, culture, and just about anything else people can find to argue about."

Rose slumped back against the couch. "The culture wars. I know. We live in scary times, Jack."

"And paranoid ones. I don't want some politician with an ax to grind deciding you're a threat and need to be locked up or otherwise stopped. There's safety in numbers."

Rose looked up at him. "You think I should stop, don't you?"

"Not at all. I just think you should find a safer way of getting your point across. I'd rather not see you in prison, especially on some trumped-up charges, or getting killed over your views."

"I've always been outspoken, from the time I was a kid. The things I learned when I was with Cal only strengthened my views that something was rotten in the world—"

"Rotten with him, anyway."

"It wasn't just him, Jack. He had a whole lot of people who were willing to do whatever he asked, no matter how illegal or…or unethical it might be. When I was an intern for him, I shredded some papers detailing some of the illegal things he'd done. Even then, I thought that maybe I shouldn't shred them, but I did. And then the earthquake happened, and I realized more than ever how bad it can be to put profits over people's safety, and I vowed then and there not to be part of anything that hurt others. And then I had Lizzy a year and half later, and I knew that I wanted her to grow up in a safe world with a future." She looked at her hands, sighing. "Maybe I'm just tilting at windmills, though."

"A group of people together can do a lot of harm—like Cal and his flunkies, like the gang I belonged to before I went to juvenile hall—but they can also do a lot of good. We both know our history. No great change, for good or ill, has ever been accomplished without a lot of people behind it. You hear about the individuals that inspired others, but you don't hear nearly as much about the regular people who were a part of that change, either by taking part or by hiding their heads in the sand and pretending nothing was happening."

"And when two groups with different ideas oppose each other, you get a war."

"Or a stalemate—like Congress."

Rose chuckled slightly. She did indeed have a good understanding of how the political system worked. It slowed itself to a grinding halt on many occasions—but it also usually prevented any one person from gaining too much power.

"You're right, and I think I'll at least look into working with existing organizations rather than trying to go it alone." Rose leaned her head on Jack's shoulder, changing the subject. "I missed you last night."

"What, you didn't have enough company in there?"

Rose grimaced. "One of them snored loud enough to wake the dead—but not loud enough to wake herself. Everyone in there heard her loud and clear, no matter where they were. I heard someone mumbling about how nice it would be to put a pillow over her face...I think it was one of the guards."

Jack laughed. "So, I take it that I don't snore that loudly?"

"You don't snore at all unless you have a cold. I can get a good night's rest next to you." She paused. "But I really did miss you. Other than last night, I think we've spent a grand total of one night apart since we were married—and that was when Lizzy was born."

"I missed you, too," Jack admitted, "after I got through convincing Lizzy that you would come back. She was pretty worried."

"Poor Lizzy." Rose sighed, putting her arms around him. "I'm back now, though."

"Just do your best not to do anything illegal, okay?"

"I'm trying. Now, if only legal things were all acceptable..."

"You're doing your best to change things. That's all anyone can do."

"I'm going to keep speaking out, whatever the consequences—but I'll try to do it more safely."

"I'll always back you up, Rose…even if do sometimes scratch my head and wonder what in the hell you're thinking."

"I know." Rose stood up, pulling him with her. "So, are we made up now?"

"I'd say so." He gave her a kiss.

"Good. Let's go to bed, then. It's been a long day." She pulled his head down, kissing him back. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too, Rose."

He put an arm around her, walking with her to their room and closing the door behind them.


	90. Graduation 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety

_Wednesday, June 11, 2008  
University of California, Riverside_

Rose walked slowly in the direction of her lecture hall, her swollen stomach preceding her down the sidewalk. Awkwardly, she moved along, struggling to balance her heavy backpack and her heavier middle.

Her second child was due any day now. A part of her wished he would hurry and be born, while another part hoped that he would wait until after graduation, just three days away.

The previous June, Jack and Rose had begun to consider having another child. Lizzy had been almost three years old, certainly old enough to deal with a new sibling, and they wanted to enlarge their family. It hadn't taken them long to decide to increase the size of their family, and by September Rose was pregnant again.

They weren't entirely certain of when the baby had been conceived, although Rose always maintained that it had happened the night early in September when they had been out alone together and had stopped in a secluded turnout on a mountain road to look at the stars. One thing had led to another and they had ended up in the back seat of the car.

A few weeks later, Rose had realized that she was pregnant. Jack was delighted by the news, although he wasn't so sure that the night in the car had been responsible. Since neither of them could be sure, however, he didn't argue with her.

Things had been calmer for them over the past year. Rose had continued her political activism, but more cautiously, avoiding getting arrested again. She'd gotten away with it once, but next time she might not be so lucky. Now she worked with campus organizations with goals similar to her own and had started her own blog on the Internet, attracting enough attention that her writing had been featured on a some other websites. She had also continued singing, writing her own songs on occasion.

Mari had been released from jail after a week of waiting for them to affirm that she was indeed a citizen of the United States. The judge had sentenced her to time served and had given her twenty hours of community service, which she had served by assisting in botany department field trips, something she would have done anyway. Rose had laughed, pointing out that community service wasn't supposed to be fun, but Mari had just shrugged and told her that she'd served her sentence and was done with it. Disgusted with the whole thing, she had joined Rose in her political activism, focusing mostly on environmental and immigration issues.

Rubbing her back, Rose made her way into the lecture hall and maneuvered herself into one of the front seats. It was too much trouble to wiggle into one of the seats farther back, even though there would be no lecture today, as it was the last day of class and the final exam.

As she filled in the answers on her final--a political science final, and she only had one more exam to go--she shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her back. Mentally, she reminded the baby that, while she wanted him born soon, she didn't want him to make an appearance in the middle of a final exam.

_It's probably just false labor,_ she reassured herself. When she had had Lizzy, she had occasionally suffered from false labor pains, but this baby seemed unsure of when he wanted to make his way into the world. She had been experiencing occasional pains all week, but they had never progressed into labor, and since the doctor said that both she and the baby were fine, she chose not to worry about it.

The test took about two hours complete. By the time Rose finished it and went to hand it in, she was beginning to suspect that she wasn't experiencing false labor this time. Now, the baby seemed to be eager to make his way into the world.

As Rose handed in her exam and turned to leave, she was suddenly convinced that the baby's birth was imminent. Something seemed to give way inside her, and she stared in surprise for a moment at the puddle of fluid at her feet.

Giving a sheepish look to the wide-eyed professor, Rose hurried up the aisle as quickly as she could, heading for the exit. Placing a hand on her middle, she sent a silent request to the baby that he stay put just a little longer.

Before she could leave for the hospital, she had to find Mari and ask her to watch Lizzy for the rest of the day, and she had to find Jack. He wouldn't miss the birth of their second child for the world.


	91. Graduation 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-One

After calling Mari on her cell phone, it took another twenty minutes for Rose to get to where she had agreed to meet Mari and Lizzy, during which time she experienced two more contractions. The baby was coming quickly.

Lizzy ran to greet her, yelling in delight. Rose picked her up and held her for a moment, then set her down as another pain lanced through her midsection.

"You're all wet," Lizzy informed her, touching her mother's soaked maternity dress. "Did you have an accident?"

Rose laughed slightly. "No, Lizzy. I didn't have an accident. I'm having the baby."

"You are?" Lizzy's eyes grew wide. "Where is it?"

"He's still inside me, sweetie. I have to go and get him born."

"Oh." Lizzy nodded, accepting this fact. Her parents had explained where babies came from to her several months earlier, though many of the details had gone over her head.

"I take it you need me to watch her?" Mari asked, taking Lizzy's hand. "Or do you plan to have her there to see the birth?"

"No...I'd prefer that you watch her. I think she's a little too young to see the inside of the delivery room, and I know that Jack wants to be with me for the birth. There isn't much time, either—this one's coming fast."

"I'll watch her," Mari told her, sighing. "My students have a final lab today, but I'll keep her in the other room from the test." She grinned. "I wouldn't want her giving any answers away."

Throughout the past couple of years, Mari had taught Lizzy all about botany as she took her around while Jack and Rose were in class or at work. The child had learned quickly, and could outdo many beginning botany students as a result.

Rose laughed, marveling over the fact that her three-year-old daughter had knowledge that many college students struggled to learn. Lizzy could not yet read, except for the alphabet, or write at all, but she could identify dozens of native plants and point out the parts of a flower. Mari had also attempted to teach herbal medicine to the little girl until Rose had put her foot down, remembering Mari's early experiments with herbs and not wanting her daughter to follow in her footsteps.

"Be good, Lizzy," she told her daughter, giving her a hug. "Don't help anybody cheat."

"I won't, Mommy." Lizzy looked at her seriously.

"Have fun with your Aunt Mari." Rose stood with difficulty. "Mari, have you seen Jack? He isn't answering his phone."

"Last I saw, he was eating lunch at the outside tables. You might check there."

"Thanks." Rose turned and hurried away, giving Mari and Lizzy one last wave.

*****

"Jack! There you are!" Rose waddled up to him, one hand on her aching back. "I've been looking all over for you."

After she had failed to locate him at the outdoor tables, she had begun checking all of the places he was likely to be—the art gallery, the classroom where he would take his last final in a couple of hours—and had finally located him in the Science Library, where he was studying for his psychology final. It had taken her a good half hour to find him, during which time the pains had grown closer together, until they were only five minutes apart.

She had been growing worried—the birth was progressing much faster than she had expected—and she had been ready to abandon her search and try to drive herself to the hospital or go to the campus health clinic to see if someone there could help her. She had been relieved when she finally saw Jack sitting at a table studying.

"Have a seat," Jack invited her, pulling out a chair.

Rose started to sit, then changed her mind. She wasn't sure if she could be able to get back up. Jack noticed her hesitation and frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pushing his notes away.

"I'm having the baby—now. He's coming fast—I've only been in labor for about three hours."

"Are you sure it's labor? You've had false labor pains before."

"I'm sure. My water broke on the floor of the lecture hall. The pains are about five minutes apart and getting closer together all the time."

Jack looked at the pile of notes in front of him, then stuffed them into his bag. The final was in two hours, but he would just have to hope that he could talk the professor into letting him take it late, or else pass without it. Otherwise, he would be re-taking the class during the summer while trying to work full-time before he began graduate school in the fall—not a prospect he relished.

But the baby's birth was more important than the test. If he had to re-take the class, that was just the way it was. He had been there for Lizzy's birth, and certainly wasn't going to miss the birth of their second child.

Picking up his bag, he told Rose, "Why don't you go wait at the curb? I'll go get the car and pick you up."

Rose nodded. "Sure. I'll be waiting. Hurry, Jack. I don't know how much time we have."

*****

Rose was leaning against a light pole, holding her stomach as another contraction went through her, when Jack pulled up.

"Rose!" Jack strode up to her, leaving the passenger side door open. "Can you get to the car?"

Rose hesitated a moment, then straightened as the contraction eased. "I can make it."

She let Jack help her into the car, leaning tiredly against the back of the seat. "Took you long enough," she grumbled.

"It's long walk home—how are you doing?"

"They're about three minutes apart." Rose closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as another pain began.

"Jesus. This is happening fast."

Rose took a moment to answer. "I know. How long does it take to get off campus? At this rate, I'll wind up having the baby at the campus health clinic."

"I'm going as fast as I can."

"I know." Rose touched his arm. "I don't mean to be so pushy."

"It's okay. You need to be pushy at a time like this."

Rose eyed him balefully, groaning at the pun. She closed her eyes again, laying her head against the back of the seat.

"It can't be that bad," Jack told her, seeing her expression. "You're having a baby. You should be happy."

Rose glared at him as they turned onto University Avenue and headed for the freeway. "Jack, when you've had a baby, you can tell me it isn't that bad. Until then, shut up." She moaned, panting, waiting for the latest pain to end. "Jack, hurry. This is happening too fast."

"It's not too far down the freeway—shit!" He put on the brakes, easing into the traffic jam. Far ahead, he could make out a stalled big rig blocking two lanes—the vehicle had stopped while the driver was trying to change lanes. "Just hold on, Rose. We'll get off at the next exit and take the city streets from there."

They waited, but the traffic on the 60 Freeway, almost always gridlocked anyway, wasn't moving. A few cars at a time moved through the open lane, but three crowded lanes of traffic trying to move into one didn't go anywhere fast.

Rose stared through the windshield, looking for some way around the jam, but the freeway had been undergoing frequent construction over the past decade, and there were few places wide enough for the car to pass on the shoulder. They were in the far lane from the one that was open, and there was no way to push through and past the obstruction.

Jack looked over at Rose. She was breathing hard, her face shining with sweat, more from being in labor than from the heat. He looked at his watch. They had been on the road for a good hour, meaning that Rose had been in labor for about four and half hours. When Lizzy had been born, it had taken much longer, but this baby seemed as though it could make an appearance any minute.

Apparently, Rose agreed. "Jack, pull over," she ordered him. "There's a space right there where you can move the car out of the way of traffic. I don't think we're going to make it to the hospital."

Jack saw where she was pointing and carefully eased the car into the gravelly construction area, ignoring the honking of horns. He looked around, hoping that it presented some way off the freeway, but there was no exit, except for back into traffic.

He turned to see that Rose had unbuckled her seat belt and tilted her seat back. She was rummaging through something behind the seat.

"Rose, what are you doing?"

"I'm having the baby. Now. You're going to have to help me, Jack, because there's no way we're getting to the hospital in time. Take this blanket of Lizzy's and put it over your window to give me some privacy. Turn the ignition so that just the air conditioning works—it's too hot to be in a closed car without it. And let's see—we'll need something to cut the cord—that pocket knife you have should work. Use the cigarette lighter to sterilize the tip. I have a baby blanket in my bag—" She curled up in pain, clinging to the seat and panting. "Jack...help me..."

He took the sterilized knife and set it on the dashboard, hoping that the sunlight would further sterilize it. Turning his full attention to Rose, he helped her lean back against the tilted seat and hitch up her skirt.

"Jack...I don't know what to do..." she panted. "Last time, the doctor took care of everything. You saw more of it than I did..."

They both knew that it was a potentially dangerous situation. The fast birth, combined with two inexperienced people to deliver the baby, made the age-old struggle of childbirth hazardous. Away from modern, sterile hospitals and well-trained doctors, childbirth was as dangerous as it had been centuries earlier.

"You—you're doing fine," he told her, hoping that he was right. She didn't appear to be hemorrhaging or in agonizing pain, just very uncomfortable and scared. One of her sandaled feet was pressed against the dashboard, while the other rested on the seat.

She was panting and straining, clinging to the door handle and to his hand. Jack pulled his hand away and pushed her leg aside, trying to see better. Rose yelped in pain, her fist clenched around a handful of her skirt.

"It hurts!" she cried, pressing her head back against the headrest and trying to breathe properly. "I think I'm tearing…"

_She didn't make nearly so much complaint when Lizzy was born,_ Jack thought, _but then, she wasn't in a situation like this, either._ He knelt on his own seat, trying to help her.

"You're right, Rose. He is coming fast. I can see the head."

"I can feel it." Rose arched her back, crying out in pain, as she bore down again. "Jack..."

"Just a little more, Rose. He's almost out...here he is." He caught the baby as he slid from her body, turning him over carefully and cleansing his mouth and nostrils.

There was a moment of silence. Then, the baby, stimulated by the hands clearing his breathing passages, let out a low wail, which quickly grew until he was crying full volume.

"Rose, you did it! The baby's alive and kicking...and it's a boy! Just like the doctor said!"

Not sure how to tie off the umbilical cord, he tied it at two points with strings torn from the tattered blanket covering the window and cut between them, keeping both the baby and Rose from losing blood through the umbilical cord. Wrapping the newborn in the blanket Rose had brought, he laid the tiny boy in her arms.

Rose took her son eagerly, unable to believe that everything had gone well in spite of the situation they had found themselves in. Cradling him, she examined the infant, touching the little face and examining the tiny hands.

"Paul Michael Dawson," she whispered, stroking the baby's head. He was a mess, but she didn't care. He was her new baby, one that she had brought into the world under such precarious circumstances. "Remember, Jack? That was what we decided the name would be."

"Yeah." He touched the tiny face, then hurried to get the blanket from the window as Rose brought forth the afterbirth. Wrapping it in the blanket, he pulled Rose's skirt back down over her legs and put the blanket at her feet, to be inspected by a doctor when they got to the hospital.

"He'll have a career in cars. I just know it," Rose murmured, cradling the baby.

"How do you know?" Jack gave her a confused look.

"He loves cars. He was conceived in this car, born in this car..."

"If we keep this car, he'll probably borrow it when he's a teenager—if Lizzy doesn't get it first," Jack told her, understanding what she was saying. "Though if we tell him that this was where he was conceived and born, he'll probably want nothing to do with it. Too embarrassing."

"So you believe he was conceived that night in the car?"

"Well...maybe. It seems logical enough."

Rose laughed softly. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too, Rose." He looked out the window. The traffic was beginning to clear, but was still moving very slowly. "Are you going to be okay? It may take a while to get to the hospital."

"I think so." Rose looked at him tiredly. "For safety's sake, let's get there as soon as we can."

"I'll try, but I don't know how long—"

He was interrupted by a knock on the window. Looking up, they saw a police officer, his car parked behind them, gesturing for Jack to roll down the window.


	92. Graduation 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Two

"Yes, officer?" Jack asked politely, rolling down his window.

"This is not a parking area. What are you doing here?"

Jack thought fast, hoping that he wouldn't get a ticket for being illegally parked. It was only a minor infraction, but traffic tickets were expensive, and traffic school was not something he wanted to deal with right now. He had enough to think about already.

"My wife was in labor," he explained. "I was driving her to the hospital, but as you can see, there's a major traffic jam. The baby wasn't going to wait, and I couldn't drive and help deliver the baby at the same time, so I pulled off here. The baby was born about ten minutes ago. I was just getting ready to try to get back on the road so I could take them to the hospital."

"He's telling the truth." Rose pulled herself up from where she was slouched against the seat, displaying the squirming, blanket-wrapped infant. "Our son is only a few minutes old. We had to deliver him by ourselves."

The officer looked more closely, seeing the obviously just-delivered infant and his exhausted mother. Then he recognized Rose.

"I might have known," he grumbled, looking at her. "Can't you stay out of trouble?"

Rose gave him a tired look, recognizing the police officer who had arrested her at her first demonstration and who had been nearby at several others she had joined in. Not dignifying his remark with a reply, she commented, "We must stop meeting like this. Someone will get suspicious."

"Yeah, right," he mumbled, feeling a grudging admiration for her in spite of himself. She always stood up for what she believed in, no matter what kind of trouble it got her in, and now she was making an effort to lighten the situation in spite of her exhaustion following her child's birth.

Jack turned to Rose, his brow furrowing with worry as she slumped back against the seat, cradling the baby in her arms. Rose was strong and healthy, but the birth had been swift and not under the best of circumstances. She needed a doctor to tend to her and the baby.

"No offense, officer, but I really need to get my wife to the hospital. It wasn't an easy birth."

The officer looked at the still-heavy traffic, then back at Rose and her newborn. "Which hospital is it?"

"Riverside Community Hospital."

"There's no telling how long the drive will take in this traffic. Why don't I transport them, and you can follow along when the traffic clears?"

"Rose?" Jack asked. "What do you think?" He was more than willing to follow the cop's suggestion for Rose's sake, but it was up to her.

Rose pushed her seat back up, sighing tiredly. "All right. I'll go with him." Looking at the officer, she added, "As long as it actually is to the hospital, and not to jail. I didn't do anything."

She climbed out of the car, rocking little Paul gently when he whimpered. Almost as an afterthought, she picked up the blanket-wrapped afterbirth and took it with her. She walked slowly to the police car, uncaring of the blood that stained her maternity dress from the birth. She'd feel better after a doctor examined her and the baby, and after she had a chance to rest.

Jack stepped out of the car, helping her into the back of the police car. She grinned weakly at him, looking at her source of transportation.

"I hoped I'd never see the back seat of one of these again," she whispered.

"It'll get you where you're going," Jack told her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "People will move out of the way of a cop car. I'll be along as soon as I can, okay?"

"I know you will. Jack...what a mess. If I'd known how quickly the birth would happen, I would have gone to the hospital on my own, or gone to the campus health clinic and let them call an ambulance for me. You did good, though, delivering our baby. We'll be fine." She put Paul on her shoulder and patted his back, soothing the fretful infant.

"I hope so." Jack leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss before stepping back and closing the door. He walked back to his car, watching the police car merge with traffic and move forward, out of sight.

*****

About twenty minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. Rose looked out the window as the police car pulled up near the entrance, grateful for the ride. In spite of the heavy traffic on the 60 freeway, the police car had been able to move comparatively quickly, as people moved aside and waited for it to disappear before resuming anything possibly illegal.

The cop who had given her a ride, Officer Bridges, turned around to look at her. "I'll get someone to bring you a wheelchair," he told her. "Just sit tight."

Rose did as he asked, watching as a few people looked at her curiously, wondering what she was doing in the back seat of a police car at the hospital. Finally, Officer Bridges returned, a man with a wheelchair accompanying him. He let Rose out of the car, helping her into the wheelchair.

Rose sat down gratefully, looking around to see if Jack had arrived yet. There was no sign of him, so she turned to Officer Bridges for a moment, deciding that he wasn't quite as bad as she had first thought.

"Thank you for the ride," she told him, settling uncomfortably into the wheelchair.

"No problem. Just do me a favor, will you?"

"What's that?"

"Stay out of trouble. Every time I see you, you're in the middle of something."

"I haven't done anything illegal. So long as you don't arrest me without cause, you have nothing to worry about concerning me. I'm not out to ruin your career. In fact, I've got a bit of advice for you—follow your conscience instead of being a yes-man. In the end, you'll come out ahead."

That said, she nodded to the orderly, letting him wheel her into the emergency room.

*****

Jack arrived about fifteen minutes later. After fighting the traffic on the freeway for two miles, he had taken an off-ramp and driven through the city streets to the hospital. Even with the large number of stop lights, it was still faster than the clogged freeway.

He walked into the information area, wondering if Rose had been admitted yet, or if she had even been able to see a doctor.

"Excuse me," he said to the woman at the information desk. "I'm wondering where I can find Rose Dawson. She was brought here a short time ago." At least, that was what he hoped. After hearing Rose's descriptions of Officer Bridges, he wasn't any too willing to trust him. The man might have decided she was doing something illegal and taken her to jail, but even there, she would have medical care of some sort. On the other hand, jail was no place for a newborn baby, and he had promised to take Rose to the hospital.

The clerk tapped some computer keys, looking for the information he had requested. "She's in the maternity ward, Room 264. Her newborn was admitted along with her."

"Thank you. Can I see them? I'm her husband, and the baby's father."

"Let me find out." She picked up the phone, dialing an extension. After a few minutes of talking to someone on the other end, she nodded at Jack. "I'll give you a visitor's pass and you can go on up."

"What about the baby? How is he doing?" Jack asked anxiously.

"As far as I know, he's fine. Infants in serious distress are taken to intensive care. Since he's near his mother, I'm assuming he's okay. You'll have to ask the doctor to be sure, though."

*****

Jack arrived at Rose's room just as the doctor was leaving. Before the physician could walk away, Jack caught up to him, anxious about Rose and the baby.

"How are they doing?" he asked, then realized that the doctor probably didn't know exactly who he was referring to. "Rose Dawson and Paul, I mean."

"They're doing fine. Are you Jack Dawson?"

Jack nodded, wondering if Rose had described him.

"The newborn resembles you strongly," the doctor explained, seeing Jack's mystified look. "Yes, they're both doing fine. Your wife says you were the one who delivered the baby."

"Yes, I was," Jack acknowledged. "He wasn't waiting until we got here."

"You did a good job. Both your wife and your son are fine. There are no injuries to either. The baby is in the room with his mother—he can stay until she gets a roommate."

Jack was surprised. Rose hadn't been able to keep Lizzy with her after she was born, but he supposed that Riverside Community Hospital had different rules from Memorial Hospital.

"Can I see them?" he asked, gesturing to the room.

"Go ahead. She was just getting settled in when I left."

Jack hurried in, his eyes lighting at the sight of Rose lying in a hospital bed, Paul in her arms.

"Jack!" she called, seeing him.

She was lying back against the raised bed, nursing her newborn son. He whimpered at the sound of her voice calling to Jack, then quieted, latching on and continuing his first meal.

He hurried over. "How are you doing?" he asked quietly, looking at her tired but content face.

"I'm fine." She took his hand, pulling him closer. "You're a good mid-husband, or whatever you call a man who delivers babies."

"Well, since I'm not a doctor or a nurse, I guess mid-husband will do." He found a chair, pulling it up to sit beside her. Taking her hand again, he stroked the infant's head with his free hand, then touched a tiny hand. Paul immediately curled his fingers around his father's thumb, closing his eyes sleepily and letting go of his mother.

Rose pulled her hospital gown closed, then put the baby on her shoulder, patting his back to burp him. That done, she turned to Jack.

"Would you like to hold him?"

"Sure." Jack took the sleepy baby, cuddling him as the infant relaxed in his arms, quickly dozing off. He just held him for a moment, looking in awe at his newborn son, as fascinated by him as he had been by Lizzy.

"He's wonderful, Rose. It's something else, seeing a baby born—and even more special when you deliver the baby yourself. It was scary—I didn't know if things would be all right for the two of you—but I wouldn't trade the experience for anything."

"Neither would I," Rose told him, squeezing his hand. "You're right, it was scary—I think that was why it hurt more than when Lizzy was born, because I was worried and that made me tense up, and also because he's bigger and I tore a bit—I have four stitches. But everything turned out okay. We have a healthy baby boy, and I'm fine, too. It could have been a really bad situation—but it wasn't. Still, I'm glad I got a ride to the hospital with Officer Bridges, because Paul and I needed a doctor to be sure we were okay."

"And you are."

"Yes. We are. Barring any unforeseen complications, I should be released on the morning of graduation day."

"That's going to be hard. We have several guests arriving that morning, and then the ceremonies—mine in the afternoon, and yours in the evening. Do you think you'll be up to walking?"

"I'm sure going to try, and I'm supposed to sing the national anthem at my ceremony, too. I'm feeling better already after a little care and some rest. I think I can do it."

"I hope so. Lizzy will be so excited about her little brother. I'll bring her tomorrow to see you two. And on graduation day, I'll get the apartment ready and take care of the guests so you can rest. We've got reservations for dinner after that, but if you're not up to it, we'll change that to another night."

"I think I'll be okay. We'll just see what happens."

Jack put a hand to her face. "I know. And whatever happens, we've got a new baby now, a new family member. Something this important supersedes everything else. We can always rearrange things if need be."

"Thank you, Jack." Rose sat up, putting her arms around him.

"I wish I could stay longer, Rose," Jack told her, "but I need to get home and see to Lizzy. She and Mari are probably both ready to burst with excitement. I'll see you tomorrow." He carefully laid the infant back in her arms, the tiny boy fussing for a moment before calming.

"All right. I love you, Jack."

He smiled. "I love you, too, Rose. I'll give you a call when I get home."


	93. Graduation 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Three

Forty-five minutes later, Jack was back at UCR. After giving Rose a quick call and telling Mari and Lizzy that the baby was here and Rose was fine, he set off across campus, hoping to catch his psychology professor before he left for the night. He knew that he would have a hard time convincing him to let him make up the final, but he had to try. His grade depended upon it.

Luck was with him. Professor Kimmel was still in his office, finishing some last minute questions for a final exam the next day. Jack knocked on the open door, getting his attention.

"Excuse me."

Kimmel looked up. "Hello, Jack. Good of you to show up."

Jack winced. "Dr. Kimmel, I know I missed the final, but I had a good reason."

"Oh? You don't appear to be seriously ill or dead."

"My wife went into labor," Jack explained. "I was driving her to the hospital, but there was a traffic jam blocking our way. The baby was determined to make his way into the world, so we didn't make it to the hospital, and I wound up delivering him myself."

"So, it's a boy, is it?"

Jack's eyes shone with pride at the thought of his new son. "Yes. Paul Michael Dawson, born in the front seat of the car about two hours ago." He paused. "Dr. Kimmel, I know it's a lot to ask, but could I possibly make up the final? It really was an emergency that made me miss it. You know that I'm not one to make up a lot of excuses--I was always in class on time, and always got papers and such turned in when they were due."

"I'll consider it, but your story sounds a little far-fetched."

"Dr. Kimmel, you know my wife was pregnant. She was with me when I was talking to you about a week ago. She had the baby this afternoon."

"Is she in the hospital now?"

"Yes, she is. Riverside Community Hospital."

"All right. If she and her doctor can confirm your story, you can make up the final this afternoon. No extra time to study."

"That will be fine. Thank you, Dr. Kimmel." Inwardly, Jack sighed in relief. Kimmel was hard-nosed; there was no denying it. He was known for his toughness and for not accepting any excuses without proof.

"What's your wife's name?"

"Rose Dawson."

Kimmel picked up a phone book and leafed through it, finding the number of Riverside Community Hospital. Dialing the phone, he waited a moment, then requested to speak to Rose Dawson. A moment later, Rose picked up the phone, sounding sleepy.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Rose Dawson?"

"Speaking."

"Mrs. Dawson, this is Dr. Kimmel, your husband's psychology professor. I'm calling to confirm his story that he was unable to take the final because you were in labor and stuck in traffic."

"That's right. The traffic was so heavy that we couldn't get through. He delivered our son himself."

"What's the baby's name?"

"Paul Michael Dawson."

"Okay, you've confirmed it for your part, but I would like to speak to your doctor to be sure. What is your doctor's name?"

"Dr. Juan Ortega. Fortunately, he had just finished delivering another baby when I arrived, so he was able to see me right away."

"Is he still at the hospital?"

"I don't know. You could have him paged."

"All right. Thank you, Mrs. Dawson."

Kimmel hung up the phone, then dialed the hospital's number again, requesting to speak with Dr. Ortega. As luck would have it, he was making one last round before leaving, allowing Kimmel to speak with him almost immediately.

After confirming that Jack was indeed telling the truth, Kimmel hung up the phone and turned to him.

"Okay, Jack, you've convinced me that it was a genuine emergency. You can make up the final right now. The classroom next door is empty, so go in there and have a seat. I'll be with you in a moment."

"Thank you, Dr. Kimmel."

"You'll have three hours to complete the exam, like any other student."

"Of course. I hope it won't take me that long, but if it does, thank you."

"I hope it takes a shorter time, too. I'd like to get home sometime tonight. Now, get over there."

Jack nodded gratefully, picking up his backpack and hurrying into the next room, and settled down to take the test.

*****

Early on the morning of graduation day, Jack brought Rose home from the hospital. Fortunately, in spite of the precarious birth, both Rose and Paul were fine and ready to go home. Jack had brought Mari and Lizzy to visit, and Mari had cooed over her new "nephew", while Lizzy had been fascinated by her tiny brother with his clinging hands, random movements, and unfocused eyes. They had told Lizzy that she was much the same way when she born, which she hadn't quite believed, but thought was interesting nonetheless.

As they neared the campus and stopped at a red light, Jack looked at Rose, who was turned around in her seat, checking on the dozing baby in the back seat. Satisfied that he was fine, she turned back to the front, looking at Jack with a smile.

"Did you manage to make up your final?" she asked, sitting back as the light turned green.

"Yes. After Dr. Kimmel talked to you, he talked to Dr. Ortega and was convinced that I was telling the truth. He let me make it up, grumbling the whole time about wanting to leave."

"That was rude of him."

"He didn't hold it against me. I got an A on it anyway."

"That's great, Jack. I knew you could do it." She smiled, proud of his accomplishments.

In spite of working and caring for a family, Jack had managed to maintain a 4.0 GPA during his years at UCR and had been chosen to make a speech at his graduation ceremony. Due to the large size of the UCR graduating class, there were several ceremonies being held, enabling Jack and Rose to attend each other's graduations.

"You haven't done so badly yourself," he told her. "You're graduating, too, at the seven o'clock ceremony, and you're singing the national anthem. I wouldn't even try that. I know it would be a disaster."

Rose grinned at that. It was true. Jack could not sing. "You have your own talents." Rose looked at her watch. "Your graduation is at three o'clock, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"We'll all be there. I'll take the kids. Then it'll be your turn in the evening."

As they drove back onto campus, Jack asked, "Do you think you're up to trying to make up your music final? You can pass without it, can't you?"

Rose thought for a moment. "I think I'll try it, anyway. It might mean a higher grade."

"Even though you're not planning on going to school anymore?"

She shrugged. "You never know what will happen. Besides, it's a matter of pride. I can do it, if my instructor will allow it."

"Okay." Jack pulled into a parking space near married student housing and got out of the car, going around to the back and picking up the baby, who whimpered at being disturbed.

"Come on, Paul. There's nothing to cry about."

Paul soon calmed, soothed by both of his parents. Easing the walk for Rose, Jack carried the newborn, eliciting stares and smiles from students that they passed on the way.

When they reached Rose's music instructor's office, they sat down to wait. A sign on the door told them that the instructor, Jane Scott, would be back shortly. After about fifteen minutes, she showed up.

"Rose!" she said, looking at her student in surprise. "What are you doing? Do you realize you missed the final?"

"I know. I had a good reason, though." Rose stood up, showing her much-smaller stomach, then took the baby from Jack.

"Oh, you had the baby." She looked closely at Paul, reaching irresistibly to touch a tiny hand. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy," Rose told her. "Paul Michael Dawson."

"When was he born?"

"About three days ago."

"Your final was only two days ago."

"I know, but I was in the hospital, and they wouldn't let me leave." Rose dug a doctor's note from her purse. "Here."

Jane looked it over, then nodded. "Do you want to make up the final?"

"If I can."

"Okay, since you have a medical excuse, I'll allow it. Which part do you want to do first--written or lab?"

"Um...I think I'll do the written part first, so I have a chance to warm up my voice before the singing part."

"All right. You have an hour and a half for the written part. You'll have about twenty minutes to warm up your voice, unless you get done early. Then you can take the lab portion early, too, if you choose. Uh...but you'll have to find something to do with the baby while you take the test. You can't keep him with you."

"Jack, will you take him home? I'm sure Lizzy is eager to see him."

"Sure." Jack took the infant from her, cradling him against his shoulder and patting his back as he whimpered at being disturbed. "Come on home as soon as youre done--Lizzy misses you."

"Thanks, Jack. I'll be home as soon as I can."

Jack gave her a quick kiss. "You're welcome. Good luck."


	94. Graduation 5

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Four**

_Saturday, June 14, 2008_

Rose unlocked the front door of the house, her step light in spite of her continued soreness from Paul's birth. Not only had the final gone well, but she managed to ace both portions in spite of having to take it late. And now she was finished with college, at least for the time being. Maybe she would go back later, but for now she'd had enough and wanted to concentrate on her career instead.

"I'm home!" she called, closing the door behind her.

"We're in here, Rose!" Jack called from the living room.

Rose headed in the direction of the living room, only to be stopped by an unusually quiet and sad Lizzy. Her blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails, slightly askew, but she wasn't bouncing around with her usual cheerful energy.

"Hello, Lizzy." Rose bent down to greet her daughter.

"Hi, Mommy." Lizzy stopped, looking hesitant about approaching Rose.

"What's the matter, Lizzy? Where's my smiling girl?"

At that, Lizzy burst into tears. "Mommy!" she wailed, throwing herself into Rose's arms.

Rose picked her up, rubbing her back gently. "What's the matter, sweetie? What's wrong?"

"Nobody loves me anymore!" the child wailed, clinging to her mother. "Everybody loves that new baby instead!"

"Oh, Lizzy." Rose turned her daughter's face to hers. "We still love you. The new baby doesn't change that."

"You won't have any love left."

"Now, that's not true. You know what the truth is, Lizzy? The truth is, the more people you have to love, the more love you have for everybody. So we actually have more love for you now."

Jack walked in, hearing Lizzy crying. "What's wrong, Busy Lizzy?"

Lizzy looked at the baby cradled in his arms and buried her head in Rose's shoulder, refusing to answer.

"She thinks we don't love her anymore because of the new baby."

"We don't love her anymore? Of course we love you, Lizzy. You're our special little girl."

"You love the baby more." Lizzy peeked out at her father, then put her head back on Rose's shoulder. "You said we could play Candy Land, and then you went to take care of him, and we didn't get to play."

"Oh, come on now, Lizzy. We can still play. Your mommy can play, too."

"No."

"Lizzy, babies need a lot of care. Baby Paul needed to have his diaper changed, that's all. We would have played Candy Land when he was clean."

"He stinks."

"Yes, babies do sometimes." Rose laughed. "So did you, sometimes, when you were a baby. He'll outgrow it, and then he'll be able to play with you, too."

Lizzy didn't respond, but instead clung more tightly to her mother.

"Lizzy, how would you like to hold the baby?" Jack offered. "I think it's time for you two to get to know each other."

"He's just a dumb baby."

"He's your little brother, Lizzy. And he really wants to get to know you. After all, you're his big sister, and that's pretty important."

Paul chose that moment to make a gurgling noise, waving one hand around and catching a handful of his sister's T-shirt.

"You see, Lizzy? He wants to see you."

Lizzy looked reluctant, but finally agreed. "Okay. I'll hold him."

They went into the living room, Jack and Rose sitting down on the couch with Lizzy between them. Jack carefully placed Paul in Lizzy's arms, the baby lying awkwardly in the arms of the little girl.

"You hold him like this, Lizzy," Rose explained, positioning the whimpering baby in her daughter's arms. "Now, be careful of his head, because it has a lot of soft spots."

"What are soft spots?"

"It's where his head could squish, so that he could get out of his mother," Jack explained.

"How did he get out of you, Mommy?"

"The opposite of the way he got in. Remember where I told you babies come from?"

"Daddy took him out?"

"Yes, Daddy took him out." It was a good enough explanation for the time being, and in this case, it was quite true.

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes, it did hurt a little. But I love Paul anyway."

That brought Lizzy's mind back to the question of whether her parents still loved her or not. "Daddy?"

"Yes, Busy Lizzy?"

"Do you really have more love for everybody when there's more people to love? That's what Mommy said."

"Your mommy is right, Lizzy. We love you even more now. And now you have someone else to love you."

"Baby Paul," Lizzy said, looking down at her little brother, who had relaxed and was looking up at her with a blank-eyed stare. "He's cute."

"So are you, Lizzy." Rose hugged her. "Look. He likes you."

Lizzy looked at Paul, who was waving his arms and legs around, almost making Lizzy let go of him. Jack hugged Lizzy with one arm and steadied Paul with the other.

Lizzy touched one of Paul's hands. Immediately, the baby wrapped his tiny fist around her hand, almost able to clutch her palm.

"He likes me!" she exclaimed. "You like me, Baby Paul!"

"Yes, he does," Jack agreed. "You're his big sister, and he loves you."

"Even though he's just a baby?"

"Even though he's just a baby."

*****

Around noon, the guests that Jack and Rose had invited to the graduation began to arrive. Helga and her family arrived first, bringing food for the potluck lunch the Dawsons had planned, as well as presents for the new baby and for Lizzy.

Lizzy hugged Daniel, inspiring him to make a rude remark about girls, which Lizzy answered with an equally rude remark about boys. Nevertheless, the two old friends soon forgot their differences and played contentedly on the dandelion-studded lawn outside the house, chasing each other around until they fell giggling on the grass.

Rose greeted Helga and Bill, looking at Helga's swelling middle. "How much longer do you have?" she asked.

"Three more months," Helga replied, sighing. "All in summer."

"You and I do have a penchant for having babies close together." Rose smiled, looking up as Jack came into the kitchen, carrying Paul again.

"So this is my new 'nephew'," Helga remarked. "Let me hold him."

She cuddled the newest member of the Dawson family. "You are so cute. Yes, you are. You're a little angel."

"Except for two AM feedings, diapers...those baby things."

"Oh, you love him anyway."

"Yeah, we do. Lizzy was afraid we didn't love her anymore."

"Daniel went through the same thing when he found out he has a little sister on the way. She'll get over it."

"We're trying to diffuse the green-eyed monster before it can start. That's why I asked you to bring a present for Lizzy, too. We're holding a Big Sister Party for her at lunch. We even have an ice cream cake that Jack decorated."

"That should make her feel happy and important."

Helga handed the hungry baby to Rose. She sat down to nurse him, unbuttoning her blouse. Bill and Jack left the room, giving her some privacy and leaving the two women to talk.

*****

Tommy, Sophie, and Mari arrived a short time later. Lizzy ran to Mari, overjoyed to see her, and Daniel ran to her, too, not sure who she was, but wanting to be a part of whatever Lizzy was doing.

"This is Aunt Mari," Lizzy told him.

"Hi, Aunt Mari." Daniel looked up at her. "I'm Daniel de Rosa."

"Welcome, Daniel de Rosa. Are you having fun?"

"Yeah!" the two children replied in unison.

"Lunchtime!" Rose called from the doorway, polishing off a piece of lunch meat.

Mari took each child by the hand and walked with them into the house, helping Jack and Rose get them seated. Lizzy sat in her booster seat, while Daniel sat on a pile of textbooks. The two hungry children dug into their lunches while the adults took their time, talking and filling their plates before sitting down.

Rose grinned at the sight of Tommy and Sophie, who had grown inseparable over the past few years. They no longer claimed to be just friends, though they lived separately and showed no signs of wanting to live together or get married. In spite of their close relationship, each claimed to want their space and freedom. Rose wasn't fooled, having observed just how much time they spent together. The pair reminded her strongly of herself and Jack, but without children in tow.

Lizzy finished her lunch and started to climb down from her seat, but Jack stopped her. "Wait, Lizzy. Not everybody is done yet, and we have something for you, besides."

"You do?" Lizzy had seen the pile of presents for Paul, eyeing them with more than a little jealousy. Never mind that her parents would be the ones to open the presents, or that Paul was too little to enjoy them much, she was still envious.

"Yep." Mari hurried out of the room, going into Jack and Rose's bedroom. She returned a moment later with a pile of prettily wrapped presents. "These are for you."

"For me?" Lizzy looked confused. "Why?"

"Because you're a big sister now," Rose explained. "You don't become a big sister every day, so we're having a little party for you."

"Yeah, I'm a big sister." Lizzy smiled, feeling important.

"Go on. Open them," Jack told her, smiling.

Lizzy, never one to do things halfway, ripped into the first present, pulling out a Barbie doll, for which she had been begging for months. "Look! It's Boobie!"

The whole table erupted in laughter. Daniel looked at the doll disdainfully.

"Why do you want to play with a doll?"

"Because it's fun!" Lizzy answered, setting the doll on the table and opening the next present, which drew another disdainful look from Daniel. "Doll clothes!"

Rose had purchased several inexpensive sets of Barbie doll clothes. She smiled, glad to see Lizzy enjoying her present.

At her parents' prompting, Lizzy opened the rest of the packages, delighted at the coloring book and crayons from her father, the baby doll from Helga and Bill, the three children's books from Sophie, and the toy truck from Tommy. Even Daniel was impressed by the last present.

"Neat!" Lizzy exclaimed. "A truck for Boobie!"

"You don't put dolls in a truck," Daniel told her. "Trucks are only for boys."

"Are not!"

"Are so!"

"That's enough, Lizzy, Daniel." Their parents made it clear that fighting would not be tolerated.

"I have a present for you, too," Daniel announced, pulling something out of his pocket. "Mommy let me get it from the machine at the store."

Lizzy took the plastic container of some sort of slimy stuff, the sort that could be bought from a vending machine for a quarter.

"Gross." She opened it and poked at it. "Cool."

Daniel looked proud.

Rose began to clear away the wrapping paper while Jack collected Lizzy's presents and took them down to her room.

"Can we go play now?" Lizzy wanted to know. Now that the presents were opened, she was tired of sitting at the table.

"Not quite yet, Lizzy. We're having dessert first." Rose took the cake from the freezer, setting it on the table.

"Ice cream cake!" Lizzy grinned. She wanted to be a big sister more often if she got this kind of stuff.

"Look at the decorations, Lizzy. Your daddy did that."

On the cake was a carefully rendered design of a little blonde girl holding a baby, her hair in pigtails like Lizzy's. The baby had red hair and was smiling.

"It's me and Paul!" Lizzy exclaimed, looking at the picture. "What do the words say, Mommy?"

"It says _Lizzy is Paul's big sister_."

Lizzy looked at the words again. "I know which word is Lizzy," she announced. "L-I-Z-Z-Y. That spells Lizzy. Right, Mommy?"

"That's right. Just like I taught you."

"I like being a big sister, Mommy. When Paul gets bigger, can he play Candy Land with me?"

"Of course he can. And you can play with him already, even if it's baby games."

"Yeah." Lizzy stood up in her chair and looked at Paul in his baby carrier. "I love you, Baby Paul. I'm gonna teach you how to play Candy Land and pick flowers."

"And play tag," Daniel added.

"Yeah. And watch Sesame Street." Having made her speech, Lizzy sat back down. "Can I have some cake now?"

Jack grinned, coming up to cut the cake and serve everyone, Lizzy first.

"Sure, Busy Lizzy. It's a special day for you."


	95. Graduation 6

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Five

Rose jumped as the doorbell rang, looking up from where she was helping Lizzy change into a pretty sundress instead of her usual shorts and t-shirt. The little girl tried to run to the door--she loved visitors--but Rose restrained her, calling to Jack instead.

"Jack, can you get the door, please?"

A moment later, she heard the door open. Jack's voice rang through the house.

"Hey, good to see you! We didn't think you were going to be here."

Rose finished tying the strings on Lizzy's dress and opened the door, letting her out into the hallway. Lizzy darted ahead of her mother, squealing in delight when she saw who had arrived.

"Nana! Great-Grandpa!"

"Hello, Busy Lizzy." Kathleen scooped her great-granddaughter up and gave her a hug, then passed her to David, who tickled her nose, making her giggle. "Rose, Jack, I'm sorry that we're so late, but we got a flat tire coming here and had to wait for Auto Club to come and change it for us. We tried to call, but we were in a remote area and couldn't get a signal for the cell phone."

"That's okay," Rose told her, giving her a hug. "We're just glad you made it. I was beginning to get concerned that something had happened to you two."

At seventy, Kathleen was still strong and vibrant, like most of the women in her family, but David was not so healthy. In spite of being two years younger than his wife, his health was much poorer, and he had suffered a mild heart attack six months before. Rose worried about him, although there had been no problems since.

"Now, where is my new great-grandson?" Kathleen asked, looking around for the baby.

"He's still napping," Jack told her, taking Lizzy from David and showing the Flemings to the room he shared with Rose, and now with Paul, too. "We're keeping him in our room for a while so that he doesn't disturb Lizzy, or she him."

Paul was beginning to stir when they walked in, so Jack took him from the bassinet and rocked him gently, forestalling the baby's cries. "Here he is--Paul Michael Dawson."

"My little brother," Lizzy added, looking as proud as if she had brought him into the world herself.

Kathleen took the baby first, cuddling him and cooing over him, while David picked up Lizzy so that she could see her baby brother. Finally, they traded children, David cuddling his great-grandson--or as close to a great-grandson as he would come, since his only child, Rebecca, had never had children of her own. The newborn in his arms gurgled contentedly, not caring what relation he was.

When Paul grew tired of being held and began to fuss hungrily, he handed him back to his mother and left the room with Kathleen, taking Lizzy by the hand so that her parents might have some privacy.

Rose sat down on the bed to nurse the baby, watching as Jack retrieved his cap, gown, and tassel from their closet. After seeing the high prices for graduation attire when they had graduated from Masline City College two years earlier, they had saved their graduation attire to wear when the finished at UCR, too. The simple black caps and gowns worked just as well for UCR as it had for Masline City College, although they had had to buy new tassels, both to show the year they graduated and to show what their degrees were in.

When she finished nursing Paul, Rose put him back in the bassinet and went to help Jack with the cap, which kept sliding off his head. Laughing, she finally took some hairpins from the dresser and began using them to secure the cap.

"Rose! Come on!" Jack tried to brush her hands away, to no avail.

"I don't want you losing this in front of all those people. Nobody's going to say anything. They won't show."

Jack finally stood still, giving her a long-suffering look, as Rose pinned the cap in place, arranging the pins so that no one would notice them.

"You look fine," she told him, tugging on his tassel to be sure it was secure. "Do you have your speech?"

"Right here." He pulled it out of his pants pocket. "Rose, I'll be fine."

"I know you will. I'm just fussing over you."

"I know. Thank you."

"Good luck."

"You, too." Jack gave her a quick kiss. "I'd better get going. I have to get there early."

"We'll be along shortly. We'll meet you in front of Rivera Library after the ceremony, okay?"

"Great." He gave her one more kiss. "I'll see you then."

Rose escorted him to the door, then turned to rounding up everyone to go to the area where the graduation ceremonies were being held.

*****

At three o'clock, Rose was sitting in the audience with the rest of the guests, watching the graduates file into their seats. Jack was already on the stage, sitting with the chancellor, the dean, and the person who would sing for this ceremony. Several members of the faculty, wearing the attire showing their different colleges and degrees, sat nearby, facing the graduating students and their audience.

Jack shaded his eyes against the bright afternoon sunlight as he searched for Rose and the others in the bleachers. Finally locating them, he looked at them for a moment, his eyes locking with Rose's. She gave him an encouraging smile, then turned to break up an argument between Daniel and Lizzy, both of whom were overexcited and beginning to grow overtired, since they had spent naptime playing instead of sleeping.

Rose smiled at Jack as the last of the students arrived to the notes of _Pomp and Circumstance_. He smiled back, a little nervously, and then turned his attention to the chancellor, who was the first speaker at the graduation.

She sat back, listening with half an ear while she divided a box of crayons between Lizzy and Daniel. The two young children couldn't be expected to sit quietly through the graduation ceremony--it was hard enough for adults, and they certainly wouldn't nap, not with air horns blaring around them. Each child had a coloring book and crayons, but they were already arguing over who got which crayons. Rose and Helga each dug a few more crayons and markers out of their purses, items left there by their children, but the grouchy youngsters needed naps and took it out on each other.

Rose leaned forward as Jack walked up to the podium to give his speech. She smiled, proud of his accomplishments. Many people who had faced similar troubles in life never got as far as he did. They had helped each other along.

Jack adjusted the microphone--the singer had been much shorter than him--and began to speak, looking towards his family and friends as he did so.

"Here we are, gathered together one last time after our years at UCR, ready to step into the next phase of our lives, whatever that phase may be. Jobs, families, further schooling...we're all going somewhere. Nine years ago, I would never have expected to be here now--unless it was to add to the crime statistics."

There were a few nervous laughs from the audience; crime was a problem at UCR.

"But I overcame my past, and pushed on to where I am today. Many of you have also faced obstacles in meeting your goals, and while those obstacles may seem small to some, they were important to the people facing them. But the important thing is that you did face them, and overcame them to get where you are today. If there's one thing that's especially important that I've learned over the years, it's that everything and everyone is important in some way. If you close your mind to what's around you, or to the people around you, everyone will suffer because of it. Keep an open mind and keep learning. Everyone has something to teach us, and our education doesn't put us above anyone. We all matter. Take life as it comes and don't worry all the time about money and your career, or you'll wake up one day to find that your life has passed you by. Make your life count, each and every day, and you'll never be sorry." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Thank you."

The audience applauded, and some cheered, though whether it was because of his words or because of the brevity of the speech, he wasn't sure.

Shortly thereafter, the degrees were awarded, and he heard his friends cheering from the audience as he accepted his diploma folder--the second member of his class to receive it. In spite of everything, he had succeeded.

*****

Almost as soon as the first graduation ceremony had ended, people began to arrive for the second, making things crowded and confused. Jack and Rose met in front of Rivera Library just long enough for Rose to congratulate him. There were a few hurried pictures, and then Rose rushed to put on her cap and gown, soon heading to the stage for her part in her graduation ceremony. Jack and Mari returned to the house to get snacks and drinks for the restless children, for whom it was dinnertime even though dinner tonight would be later, after the graduation was over. Fortunately, this one would be shorter, since there were fewer students receiving degrees in these majors.

When they returned, the others had found a space in the bleachers again and had saved space for them. Jack held Paul, Lizzy sitting beside him. Daniel sat on the other side between Helga and Bill, the two children temporarily separated for pulling each other's hair. After being given juice boxes and some slices of fruits and vegetables, the whining children calmed down. They had wanted some cookies, but their parents had no intention of filling them with sugar--they were restless enough already.

They were sitting quietly, drawing pictures on sheets of notebook paper that Sophie had given them, when Rose stepped up to sing. Jack leaned forward a little, startling the infant in his arms, but he quickly pulled a bottle from the diaper bag and gave it to him, silencing his whimpers.

Rose took a deep breath as she stepped up to the microphone. She had warmed up her voice before the students had begun to file in, but she was still a little nervous. The university's song wasn't too difficult to sing, but she was also singing the national anthem, which was notoriously difficult, even for the best, most experienced singers.

When she had finished the school song, she launched into the national anthem, trying to block out the people watching her as she looked at Jack, who was smiling proudly at her from the audience, Paul in his arms. On the cue, she began to sing.

_Oh, say can you see  
By the dawn's early light...  
_

The audience applauded when she was done. Rose stepped back, her face lit with happiness. She had done it, singing the national anthem without a hitch. She had hit every note, remembered every word, and had sung it the way she felt--simply, with no pretentious vibrato or would-be opera arias.

After another speech, the degrees were awarded, but for Rose, her greatest accomplishment that night was to sing that song--singing it for a wide audience, and not just the small groups she was accustomed to. Jack and Mari had encouraged her over and over to keep singing, as had her professors--and they had been right. She could do it, and she had. And in that moment, Rose's plans for the future, which had been vague, crystallized. She would take her education and her talent and use it both to help others and to bring joy into her own and her family's lives--just as she had been doing, but on a larger scale.

Politics, music, the rights of people--all of those things had fascinated her for years, and she was going to do what she could to make the world a better place. Just as Jack planned to help individuals in need, she, too, would help people--but for her, it would be the society as a whole that she would try to help. Both of them would do their best to make valuable contributions to the world and to their fellow human beings, no matter how long it took, or what form their work took. Together, they would make a life for themselves and their children--and in doing so, they would try to make the world a better place for everyone.


	96. Graduation 7

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Six**

Rose slowly made her way through the milling crowd, searching for her family and friends. They had agreed to meet in front of the Rivera Library again, but so, it seemed, had several other groups, and between them and the crowd, her own group was hard to find.

Finally, she saw Jack leaving the library and heading towards a group standing near the steps, Lizzy on his hip and the baby on his shoulder. Hitching up her robe, she hurried toward him, arriving just as he set Lizzy down and handed Paul to his great-grandmother. Turning around, he saw her approaching and rushed to meet her.

Before Rose could say a word, Jack swept her up in his arms and kissed her soundly, unmindful of the people surrounding them. Grinning, Rose threw her arms around him and kissed him back, then laughed in delight as he swung her around.

"We did it!" he shouted, setting her down. "We finally made it through college!"

"Yes! After six years, we finally finished college!" Rose threw her arms up in the air, making a V for victory sign, before embracing Jack and kissing him again.

They finally rejoined their group, aware that the others were staring at them, Kathleen and David smiling proudly, Tommy rolling his eyes at their exuberance, and the two young children making faces.

As they walked up to the others, accepting their congratulations and posing for pictures, Daniel turned to Lizzy and whispered, "Yuck. I'm never gonna kiss a girl."

"Me, either," Lizzy agreed, then rushed toward her parents. "Mommy! You sounded pretty out there!"

Rose picked up her daughter and swung her high in the air, making her giggle. "Thank you, Busy Lizzy. I was starting to get worried I wouldn't be able to find you."

Lizzy giggled some more. "Daddy had to change baby Paul's diaper. He stinked."

"Stank, Lizzy. He stank."

"Yeah, he did! And I went with Daddy and baby Paul, and--Mommy! Did you know that boys look different from girls?"

Rose blushed, a little embarrassed by the child's unknowing frankness. "Yes, Lizzy. I knew that."

"How'd you know? 'Cause you're Mommy?"

"Yes, 'cause I'm Mommy."

Jack saved her from any more of Lizzy's embarrassing remarks. "Busy Lizzy, would you let me take a picture of you and Mommy?"

"Okay. Can I wear Mommy's hat?"

"Sure, Lizzy." Rose reached up to unpin her cap. "Here you go."

Lizzy grinned, putting the cap on her head askew, the tassel hanging in her eyes. "How come you got a different color paintbrush from Daddy's, Mommy?" she asked, tugging on the tassel.

"It's called a tassel, Lizzy. It's because we studied different things."

Lizzy gave her a puzzled look. "But you both studied books."

"Yes, but books about different things. Daddy studied art and psychology--"

"What's sigh--sick--psycho--"

"Psychology." Rose said the word slowly. "It's studying people's minds." She tapped Lizzy's forehead.

"Oh. What did you study, Mommy?"

"Music and political science."

"What's--oh, like protests."

"Yes, like protests. Mommy studied protests."

"And going to jail?"

Rose sighed. "Yes, that too. But not too much."

"Smile, you two." Jack lifted the camera, catching them both with wide grins on their faces, the tassel still hanging in Lizzy's face.

Rose set Lizzy down and took off her robe, relieved to be out of the hot garment. "What's say we go out to dinner?"

"Yeah!" Lizzy and Daniel squealed in unison.

"Where are we going?" Sophie asked, taking the cap and gown.

"I wanna go to McDonald's!" Lizzy announced.

"No. Yuck! I wanna go to Burger King," Daniel protested.

"Were going out for Italian food," Rose told them firmly.

"Aw, man!" Daniel whined. "What's Italian food?"

Helga laughed, picking him up. "It's good food, stuff like spaghetti, lasagna, ravioli, pizza..."

"Can I have pizza, Mommy?" Lizzy asked eagerly. She loved pizza.

"If they have it, Lizzy."

"Me, too," Daniel chorused. "I'm hungry."

"I think we're all hungry," Jack told them, laughing. "Let's go."

*****

Half an hour later, the group descended upon Antonio's, a small Italian restaurant on University Avenue. Jack and Rose were glad that they'd made reservations, because their group of twelve took up almost a third of the space in the restaurant.

Rose leaned against Jack a bit tiredly as they walked into the restaurant. Jack put an arm around her.

"How are you doing?" he asked, concerned. She had only been released from the hospital that morning, and had been rushing about ever since.

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

"You think you can make it through dinner?"

Rose smiled up at him. "I can always make it through a good dinner." She paused, setting the baby in his carrier on a chair and sitting down next to him. "It was a wonderful graduation."

"Yeah. You sounded really good out there." Jack sat down next to her.

"Thanks. So did you. It's just too bad Emmaline couldn't make it. She sure sounded disappointed on the phone."

"Yeah, well, she's trying to make it on her own, not that Uncle William would have given her money to come out here and see us. Minimum wage doesnt exactly pay for travel, especially when you're trying to go to college at the same time."

"I know." Although they both worked, and Jack's job paid well over the minimum wage, they were both careful about money, and their vacations over the past couple of years had consisted of camping trips to the mountains in the summer and a few days spent with the Flemings in Palm Desert at Thanksgiving. Not that they didn't enjoy these vacations, but they weren't elaborate. There wouldn't be time for a trip this summer, though, with Jack trying to put in extra hours so that he wouldn't have to work as much the following school year.

"Mommy? Daddy? Aunt Mari says there's pizza on the menu. Can I have some?"

Jack picked up a menu, looking at it. The pizzas came whole, in small, medium, or large.

"Do you still want pizza, Daniel?" he asked, looking at the small boy sitting next to Lizzy.

"Yeah."

"Okay. You two can split a small pizza, okay? If there's anything left, you can take it home for tomorrow."

"Can't we have our own?" Lizzy asked, not wanting to share with Daniel at the moment.

"That's too much. You couldn't eat it all."

"Yes, I could."

"I think your eyes are bigger than your stomach, Busy Lizzy. You can share a pizza with Daniel, and you can each have your own drink."

"Can I have 7-UP?" Lizzy asked hopefully. She was tired, and would have whined about not getting a whole pizza for herself, but she had learned that whining usually meant that she didn't get anything she wanted.

Like many young children, Lizzy was attracted by the brightly colored pictures on containers of expensive food in the supermarket--and even moreso if she'd seen a commercial for the item on television. Her parents didn't let her watch much television, but she did watch Saturday morning cartoons and sometimes the news with her parents in the evening, and the advertisements often caught her attention more than the shows. When she asked her parents to buy her the brightly colored things she saw in the store, however, her requests were usually ignored--especially if she whined. The Dawsons had enough money, with a little extra on the side, but they wouldn't have that if they bought all the expensive things that Lizzy wanted.

On rare occasions, for a special treat or if the item was on sale for a low price, they bought the things she wanted, but usually they purchased the inexpensive generic or store brands of items, or did without them, particularly things that they construed as being junk food. Lizzy had once whined to her mother that they were depriving her, but Rose had only laughed. She knew what deprivation was, and giving her child healthy food instead of junk food wasn't it. Lizzy had learned, after a time, that whining and throwing tantrums not only didn't work, but also often meant that she wasn't allowed something that she usually got--like the chance to watch Sesame Street, or to eat ice cream after dinner on Sunday night. Her needs were always met, but she was still learning that she couldn't have everything she wanted.

Jack looked at the menu, then nodded. "Okay, Lizzy. You can have 7-UP tonight."

"Thank you, Daddy. When can we eat? I'm hungry!"

"Soon, Lizzy. Okay?"

"Baby Paul's already getting his dinner," Lizzy complained, watching as Rose unbuttoned her dress and put the baby to her breast, covered by a blanket.

"You're a big girl, Lizzy," Rose told her. "You can wait a little while. See? Here comes the waitress now."

The waitress took their orders, leaving three baskets of breadsticks with the group. Daniel and Lizzy each took a breadstick, eating hungrily while they waited for their dinner.

"What are your plans after this?" David wanted to know.

"I'm going to grad school," Jack told him, putting a straw in Lizzy's drink.

"What are you going to be studying?"

"I'm going for my Master's degree in psychology at Cal State San Bernardino. It's close to where I work and costs less than UCR, so that'll make things easier."

"So they accepted you, then?" Rose asked. "It took them long enough."

"Yes, they did, finally. I was beginning to think they wouldn't, and that I would have to take some time off and apply elsewhere."

"I don't see why they wouldn't have accepted you," Rose commented. "You managed to keep a 4.0 grade point average all through college, except for your second semester at Masline City College, and that doesn't count, because everything was such a mess after the earthquake that people were excused for not finishing that semester there."

"Yes, but this is Cal State San Bernardino. Their red tape makes the legal system look uncomplicated."

Kathleen looked at him. "That is bad." Her work as a psychologist had guaranteed that she had to learn a lot about the law and red tape, things that she still kept up on, though she was now semi-retired.

"Are you sure you want to go there?" Tommy asked Jack, raising an eyebrow. Under pressure from Sophie, he had enrolled in a few classes there himself, and knew exactly what Jack was talking about.

"It's as good a place as any, for now," Jack told him, "and it's close to home and work."

"Where are you going to be living, now that you've graduated?" Sophie asked, taking a sip of wine.

"We're renting an apartment in Riverside," Rose told her. "We'll be moving there in about a week. I'll be finishing my bookstore job at the end of June."

"Then what will you be doing?" Kathleen asked. "Grad school for you, too?"

Rose shook her head. "I've had enough of college, at least for now. I'm starting on my career."

"Have you found a job in your field?"

Rose shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. I've actually lined up a few jobs, combining music and politics, or just music. I'm going to be singing at this nightclub in San Bernardino three nights a week, including Saturdays, and I've been hired by the city of Riverside to sing at special events--I may cause trouble sometimes, but there's quite a few people who like my music. As to the politics...well...there's an environmental group that doing a series of documentaries, and they would like me to sing for them. Also, I found out about this new independent film company thats trying to break into the art film market, and I auditioned for them. They just called me today. The director--there's only one at the moment--wants to make a film of this obscure musical, and he cast me in a leading role. We start filming in August, over in Perris."

"That's very impressive, especially for someone just out of college."

"Yes...well, I have friends in strange places, to paraphrase the song. I'm not getting rich, and I'm not getting famous, but I'm doing what I enjoy and I still have plenty of time for my family and even for my activism."

"Congratulations, Rose," Jack told her, giving her a hug. "You've earned it."

"I've tried, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your help."

"Oh, I think you could have. You've got a lot of talent and determination. But thank you."

"I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too, Rose. In spite of everything--or maybe because of it--we've done just fine."

Rose smiled, squeezing his hand. The future looked bright.


	97. A Death in the Family 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Seven

_Thanksgiving, 2008_

Five and a half months had passed since Jack and Rose had graduated from college. Jack had launched himself into his graduate studies at Cal State San Bernardino, working full time during the day to support his family and going to classes three nights a week. On Saturday afternoons, he volunteered at a non-profit mental health clinic in Riverside, gaining valuable experience.

Rose's career, while not conventionally successful, had kept her busy as well. Between the different jobs she took on, she made nearly as much money as Jack did, enabling him to avoid overtime work. She continued singing at the nightclub she had originally hired on with, and soon hired on with another, singing twice a month on weeknights. Her music wasn't the most popular kind, but she soon developed a following, small though it was. Her singing for the environmental group and for the city of Riverside had attracted sufficient interest that a small recording company had taken notice. She had recorded her first album in October, an anthology of traditional American ballads. She had also signed a contract to make two more, with the possibility of an extension if there was enough interest. She had finished the musical film, which, while it was never widely released, had done well at the first film festival it was shown at, and she had been cast in another, this time an original one about the building of the railroads to be filmed in Perris starting in January.

In spite of the sometimes hectic directions their lives took them in, Jack and Rose refused to let things get so busy that they had no time for each other and their children. They had breakfast as a family almost every morning, and when she wasn't working during the day, Rose would take the kids to San Bernardino and meet Jack for lunch. No matter what, they always set Sunday aside as a family day, a tradition they had begun when Lizzy was born and which had continued over the years, although when Jack had had to work Sundays, they had taken Sunday mornings and evenings for family time. In addition, though she could have worked on Friday nights, Rose chose instead to go out somewhere with Jack on those evenings, something that they had been doing regularly since before they were married. Rose took great interest in her music, but not so great an interest that she was willing to sacrifice spending time with her husband and children.

Ruth would have been appalled at Rose's decision to hold her career back for the sake of her family, but for Rose it made perfect sense. Unlike her mother, Rose's life did not revolve around her work, though she did consider it to be important. She spent plenty of time with her family, not out of a sense of duty as her parents had, but because she genuinely enjoyed being with them. She and Jack were as close as ever, in spite of their busy lives, and they loved their children whole-heartedly. Life was good.

*****

On Thanksgiving morning, Rose awakened early, snuggled in Jack's arms. From the kids' room, she could hear Paul making soft baby noises, probably staring in fascination at the mobile suspended over his crib that glimmered in the faint glow of the nightlight.

She lay back, smiling as Jack turned over and snuggled closer against her. They didn't have to get up just yet since it was a holiday, and since the kids were still quiet, they took advantage of the time alone together, cuddling close and simply enjoying being together.

Rose sighed contentedly as Jack opened his eyes. "Good morning," she whispered, laying her head on his chest.

"Morning, Rose." He kissed her, stroking her hair gently and pulling the blankets up over their bare bodies, their nightclothes discarded hours before and scattered across the floor.

She smiled at him, returning the kiss, wishing that there was more time before the kids would get up. But since Paul was already awake, he would undoubtedly start to fuss soon, and then Lizzy would be up, wanting breakfast. She glanced around to see where her nightgown was, knowing that she would have to put some clothes on soon enough.

But not yet. She and Jack kissed again, the kiss deeper this time. Even after five years of marriage and two children, their passion hadn't faded, and they still made love often. Jack had heard the complaints of couples who said that the passion and romance had gone out of their marriage, and sometimes wondered how he and Rose had been so lucky that it hadn't happened yet. Maybe, he thought, it was because they'd had more than passion and romance to begin with, and maybe it because they took the time to make special moments for themselves. Or maybe it was both of those things, and more. A good marriage took work, but they were both willing to do what it took, and each loved and respected the other. Even when they disagreed, those things were still there.

He looked at his robe, tossed across the end of the bed, considering getting up and closing the door again. Just then, there was a whimper from Paul, which both parents knew would soon progress into full-blown wails if they didn't get up and take care of him. They also heard the creak of the springs in Lizzy's bed as she awoke, disturbed by the noise.

"I guess weve been summoned," Jack murmured ruefully, pulling away from Rose and grabbing his robe from the end of the bed.

"Right on schedule, too," Rose added, glancing at the clock. It was exactly 7:15, when Paul usually began fussing.

Climbing out of bed, she pulled on her nightgown again and opened the door the rest of the way. They always left it ajar in case one of the kids needed them, except for when privacy was essential. Then they locked it, having learned the hard way that curious children would walk in on anything--and Lizzy was definitely curious. One night, about a year before Paul was born, Lizzy had heard what she regarded as strange noises from her parents' room and had come to investigate, finding them in a compromising position. They had immediately moved apart and pulled the blankets over themselves, glad that she hadn't turned on the light, and then had spent half an hour explaining that they had been playing a game that was only for grown-ups, not telling her exactly what they had been doing. Later, after Rose had become pregnant with Paul, they had given her more details--at which point, much to their embarrassment, Lizzy had wanted to watch them play this mysterious game, an idea they had immediately vetoed. But ever since the night that Lizzy had walked in on them, they had locked the bedroom door when they made love, only opening it again later.

Rose went to Paul as his whimpers turned into wails, carrying him into the living room and sitting down on the couch to nurse him. Lizzy wandered out a few minutes later, Jack behind her. Looking at him, she turned around and jumped up on the couch beside her mother, shouting "Happy Thanksgiving, Mommy!"

Paul was startled and let go, beginning to cry. Rose hushed him and returned to feeding him, crooning softly to soothe him. Lizzy shook one of his hands.

"Dont cry, Baby Paul," she told him. "It's Thanksgiving."

Jack sat down beside them. "Do you know what Thanksgiving means, Busy Lizzy?"

"It means we eat turkey," Lizzy said confidently.

"But what does it celebrate?"

Lizzy thought for a moment. "Food?"

"You're close," Rose told her. "It celebrates having plenty, and the harvest. That's where it came from."

"Oh. That's nice." Lizzy climbed off the couch. "Can I have some cereal?"

"You can have breakfast as soon as you're dressed," Jack told her, taking her by the hand and leading her back to her room. "Let's go find you something to wear."

Rose sat back, looking down at Paul as he nursed contentedly, his eyes closed. When he let go again, she lifted him to her shoulder, placing a well-worn towel over her robe, and patted his back. Rocking the baby, she thought about the plans for the day.

_This is the first time since Jack and I were married that we won't be going to Palm Desert for Thanksgiving,_ she thought sadly. David Fleming had died suddenly six weeks earlier, not from heart trouble, as everyone had expected, but from an esophageal ulcer that had suddenly hemorrhaged. Kathleen had been struggling to cope without him and was in no mood to host the annual Thanksgiving dinner. She had decided to visit with Ruth in Masline for the holiday, but considering that Ruth and Rose were still estranged--the funeral had been the first time they had seen each other since Lizzy's birth, and they had avoided each other then--the Dawsons had decided to visit with the Hamptons for the holiday.

Rose sighed. This holiday would be different from the ones preceding it. They wouldn't be spending the weekend with the Hamptons, since Bill and Helga and their two young children didn't have the extra space. They would only be there for the afternoon before returning home. But Tommy and Sophie would also be there, and it was a chance for the group of friends to have a reunion. Lizzy and Daniel could play together, and everyone would coo over the babies. There would be plenty of food and lively conversation, and it would be as pleasant, in its own way, as spending the holiday with her grandparents. She was sad to see the old tradition fade away, but perhaps this would be the beginning of a new tradition.

*****

The Dawsons arrived at the Hamptons' home in Los Angeles at two o'clock, after three hours in the holiday traffic. Lizzy and Daniel squealed in delight at seeing each other and immediately ran outside to play, Lizzy carrying a box containing her Barbie and doll clothes. Rose somehow doubted that Daniel would be any too eager to play with them, but it didn't matter as long as they didnt fight or destroy anything.

Paul was left in the room with Bill and Helga's daughter, Lena, the two infants sharing the ample space in Lena's crib. The adults milled around, greeting Tommy and Sophie when they arrived, until finally the three women retreated into the kitchen, leaving their men outside to talk and watch the kids. They chatted contentedly, catching up on each other's lives, as they put dinner together. Each group had brought a couple of dishes, reducing the amount of work and expense for the Hamptons.

Helga, however, took pride in preparing the turkey herself, and she was pleased when the others asked her to show it to them. She opened the oven, pulling the turkey out partway to baste it.

Both Helga and Sophie looked at Rose in surprise as she suddenly paled and sat down, clapping a hand over her mouth and breathing deeply. Helga pushed the turkey back into the oven and closed it, sitting down beside Rose.

"Are you okay?" she asked, touching Rose's shoulder. "I've never known you to be squeamish before."

Rose straightened, the episode over. "Yes, I'm fine. I just...get a little queasy sometimes. It happens."

Sophie looked at her inquiringly. "What's wrong, Rose? I know the stomach flu has been going around."

Rose knew it, too--both Lizzy and Jack had come down with it the week before. Nevertheless, she shook her head. "That's not the problem."

"Then what is it?"

Rose took a deep breath, looking at her two friends. "I'm pregnant."

"Again?" Sophie stared at her. "I thought you said you only wanted two kids."

"Rose--I'm not a doctor, but I don't think that it's the healthiest plan to have babies so close together. Paul is only five months old." Helga looked at her in concern.

"It wasn't planned." Rose shrugged. "We didn't plan on it happening at all, but..."

"But what? Did the birth control fail, like when you got pregnant with Lizzy?" Helga asked.

"Well...no--not exactly. I guess it could have failed, but we...uh...we forgot to use it one night." She shook her head. "I don't use birth control pills while I'm nursing, because I don't want the extra hormones in my milk, so we were using condoms. We just...kind of forgot to use one."

Sophie shook her head. "Rose, as the mother of two, you should know that birth control only works if you use it."

"I know that. We both do. It just kind of slipped our minds."

"And now you're having another baby. Some women can't get pregnant while nursing, but I guess you aren't one of them," Helga remarked. "Does Jack know?"

Rose shook her head. "Not yet. I was planning on announcing it at dinner."

They were interrupted then by two childish shrieks, followed by the kitchen door being flung open. Lizzy and Daniel ran in, trying to shove each other aside.

"What are you doing?" Helga asked. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of the kitchen?"

"But, Mommy, she's--"

"No, he's--" Lizzy interrupted him.

Rose looked at them. "I thought we told you to go to your daddies if you needed anything."

Daniel frowned. "They're busy talking and holding the babies, and Uncle Tommy said we were being silly."

"You're being silly," Lizzy told him indignantly. "You're just a dumb boy."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Lizzy! Daniel!" Helga stared at them severely. "What are you fighting about?"

"He said I wasn't a girl," Lizzy complained. "He said only girls are supposed to play with dolls, and he said that I'm not a girl. I am too a girl!"

"No, you're not," Daniel retorted.

"Am so!"

"Are not!"

"Lizzy! Daniel!" This time Rose reprimanded them. "Daniel, if Lizzy isn't a girl, then what is she?"

Daniel looked puzzled for a moment, his face thoughtful. Then he announced, very proudly, "Lizzy's a Dawson!"

At that, all three women went into gales of laughter. Daniel stared at them, his lower lip trembling. "She is too a Dawson!" he insisted.

Helga finally stopped laughing, soothing her son before tears could result. "You're right, Daniel. Lizzy is a Dawson. But she's also a girl, and you shouldn't tease her about it. Maybe you can find something that you both want to play."

"Can we play in my room?"

Helga looked out the window, seeing that the sun was beginning to set and the three men had gone inside. "I'd rather you played in the living room, Daniel. Why don't you get out your toy cars? Lizzy likes playing cars, too."

"I'll even play with you," Rose offered, wanting to get out of the kitchen. The smell of all the cooking food was upsetting her stomach more than she had thought. She just hoped that she would have an appetite for dinner. Rising from the chair, she escorted the two children out of the kitchen, hurrying to catch up as Daniel tore across the living room, the argument with Lizzy forgotten.

*****

Dinner was uneventful. Sophie, Helga, and Bill brought the food into the dining room and set it on the table, while Jack, Rose, and Tommy chased children and got them cleaned up. Lizzy and Daniel sat happily next to each other, their earlier argument forgotten, and tried to transfer food onto each other's plates while Bill blessed the meal. When the adults put a stop to their activity, they sulked, then whined in outrage when they saw Jack dig the cucumbers from his salad and put them on Rose's plate. Sighing, their parents finally let them trade the foods that they didn't want, as long as they still had balanced meals.

The babies lay in their carriers on chairs near the table, gurgling contentedly until they dozed off near the end of the meal. Shortly thereafter, as Helga and Bill were getting ready to clear the table, Rose cleared her throat.

"I have an announcement," she said, getting the attention of the adults.

The three women smiled secretively at each other. At Jack's interested look, Rose made her announcement. "I'm going to have another baby."

Jack dropped his fork, gaining the attention of Daniel and Lizzy, who had been whispering to each other and looking at the babies. "You are?"

Rose nodded. "Yes. Sometime early in July."

"What's in July, Mommy?" Lizzy wanted to know.

"I'll be having another baby then, Busy Lizzy."

"Another one?"

"Yes, another one."

"So, is Paul going to be a big sister, too?"

Jack laughed. "No, Lizzy. Youll be the baby's big sister. Paul will be its big brother."

"Yeah," Daniel said disdainfully. "Boys are brothers."

Lizzy threw a piece of candied yam at him. "Shut up."

"Lizzy!" Jack reached over and took away her now empty plate. "You don't throw things, and you don't say shut up. Remember?"

Lizzy scowled. "Yes."

Helga shook her head firmly at Daniel before he could gloat. "Daniel, that's enough. Be nice. Now, you two go and watch TV while we clean up and get dessert ready. Okay?"

Reluctantly, Daniel and Lizzy got down, heading for the living room.

"I want to watch Cartoon Network!" Lizzy announced.

"No, let's watch Cartoon Network," Daniel argued before he realized that she'd agreed with what he wanted without him even saying it.

Jack and Rose laughed, amused by the kids' antics.

"Rose...you're going to have another baby?" Jack asked, still sitting beside her as the other adults began to clear the table.

"Yes. I was waiting for tonight to announce it, but I just found out for sure yesterday."

"How far along are you?"

"About two months. I have a pretty good idea of when this one was conceived."

"Me, too," Jack muttered, remembering the night.

"Jack...this isn't a problem for you, is it?"

"For me? No, not at all. It's unexpected, but I'm not sorry it happened. What about you? You've been doing so much work..."

"I can continue my work. I sang when I was pregnant with Paul, and I'll do so while carrying this one, too. It'll work out, just as it always has."

*****

It was nine o'clock before the Dawsons left, each carrying a sleeping child in their arms. Lizzy stirred slightly as Jack buckled her into her car seat, but soon dozed off again, feeling safe and comfortable. Inside the house, Daniel and Lena were both asleep, their doors closed against the sound of voices from the living room.

"We'll see you when we next get out here," Rose told Helga, hugging her. They saw Tommy and Sophie frequently, since Redlands was not far from Riverside and San Bernardino, but they saw the Hamptons far less often.

"Or maybe we'll come by Riverside or Redlands," Helga suggested, waving as Tommy and Sophie drove away, headed for home.

"Whichever. Don't be a stranger. We don't see you nearly enough."

"I know. Remember back when we all lived together? It's been a long time."

"We haven't lost touch, though. Our lives just took us in different directions is all."

Jack came around the car. "Good night, Helga. See you soon. We'll come here--"

"--or we'll go there," Helga promised. "Count on it."

Jack and Rose waved to Bill, who had come out of the house to see them off after making sure the kids were tucked in securely. Climbing into the car, they rolled down the windows and called to them.

"Bye! See you soon!"

"Drive carefully!" Helga called after them. "I've seen too many drunk driving victims on holiday nights."

"We will." Jack rolled up his window, putting the car in gear and setting off down the street. Rose waved one last time and rolled up her window as well.

Looking into the back seat at the sleeping children, she settled back in her seat, yawning tiredly. Relaxing, she smiled in contentment as they headed for home.


	98. A Death in the Family 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Eight

It was a long drive from Los Angeles to Riverside, over sixty miles, although the drive was easier at night, even on a holiday. Rose slid in a CD of her singing and settled back in her seat as they got on the freeway, sighing contentedly as rain began to fall.

"Happy, Rose?" Jack asked, putting his foot on the gas and pushing the car up to seventy miles an hour.

"Yeah." Rose sighed. "It was nice to see the Hamptons again. We see them much too seldom these days. It's hard to believe we once lived with Helga and Daniel..."

"...or that Helga was once married to Fabrizio," Jack finished. "She still goes down to Mexico once in a while, to let Ana see her grandson, but not so much as she used to."

"She's moved on," Rose replied. "That's the way life is sometimes. We move on, but we don't forget."

Jack shrugged. "I hated to see her remarry at first, but I like Bill. He's a good man."

"Helga certainly seems to think so. And now she's got another little one. Lena is so cute, and she's grown so much since we went to see them right after she was born."

"So have our little ones." Jack glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Both children were still sleeping, Lizzy clutching one of her pigtails.

"They do grow so fast," Rose murmured. "Where has the time gone? Lizzy's four years old already."

Jack laughed softly. "I think you're supposed to ask that question when they're almost grown, not when they're still little, especially when you have another one on the way."

"Time does pass quickly," Rose responded, looking back at her children. "But we've made it count, every minute of it."

"Can you believe it's been six years since we met?"

"It doesn't feel like that long. Even when things were at their worst, I was always glad to be with you." She looked back again as Paul stirred, kicking his feet briefly. She patted the little feet in their knit booties and turned back around. "Before we know it, they'll be grown and gone."

"It seems like forever when they cry," Jack responded dryly.

"But when they finally grow up and go out into the world, it'll feel like no time has passed at all. They grow so fast--and all we can do is love them and try to steer them the right way."

Jack squinted his eyes, looking out at the wet road ahead. "That's all any parents can do. That, and hope for the best."

*****

As they neared Riverside, Jack pulled off the freeway, heading for a back route so that he could avoid driving any further on the watery freeway, where, in spite of the hazards, people insisted upon driving as fast as they could and often wound up hydroplaning, sometimes with serious consequences. "Southern California's ice" was what one of his professors had called the rain, and Jack couldn't help but agree, especially late at night.

Rose had dozed off after the stop they had made at a gas station to let Lizzy use the bathroom, and the two children had fallen asleep again as well. He turned off the music, listening to the swish of the windshield wipers as the rain poured down again.

It was only a few more miles to the city. Letting the car coast along at forty miles an hour, his mind wandered, only half-paying attention to the road.

The stoplight ahead turned green. Jack had been slowing down, but now he sped up again, heading for the intersection.

At that moment, he saw the other car entering the intersection against the red light, headlights off and swerving drunkenly. He slammed on the brakes, hearing Rose's shocked cry as the sudden motion jarred her from sleep, but it was too late.

With a screech of clashing metal, the two cars collided, spinning around once before coming to a stop in the middle of the deserted intersection.

*****

Lizzy slammed against the window, jolted awake by the collision. She screamed, but no one responded. After crying in fright for a few minutes, she sat up, pushing away the pillow that she had been leaning against. It had protected her from injury when she had been slammed against the window.

_My finger hurts_ was the first thing that occurred to her. Looking at it, she picked out a shard of glass, whimpering in pain as she did so. She wasn't sure what had happened, but whatever it was didn't seem good.

She looked around. Everyone seemed to be asleep. Paul's car seat had been yanked loose and pushed inward and was laying on its side, Paul still in it. She poked him, wondering why he wasn't crying, too. Paul always cried at scary things.

"Daddy?" She kicked at her father's seat, trying to get his attention. "Daddy?"

Jack didn't move. He was slumped against the door, his eyes closed. The glass was cracked where his head rested.

"Mommy?" Lizzy tried to kick Rose's seat, but couldn't reach it. "Mommy? Mommy?"

No one responded. Her voice raising in pitch to a frightened shriek, Lizzy tried desperately to get someone's attention. "Mommy? Daddy? Baby Paul?"

No one answered. It was so dark she could hardly see, with the only light coming from a couple of streetlights and the stoplight. Lizzy reached for the straps to her car seat, then stopped. Daddy had told her not to unbuckle herself. But something was wrong; she knew it.

Her fear overcoming what she had been told, Lizzy pulled at the buckles, finally succeeding in undoing them. Crawling out of her seat, she pulled on the lock and then tugged at the door handle. It came open in a flash, surprising her so much that she tumbled out of the car.

She sat in a puddle for a moment, wailing about her skinned knee, then got up. No one was listening to her cry. Mommy had taught her what to do in an emergency; maybe this was what she was talking about.

She was supposed to call 9-1-1. Lizzy cheered considerably at the idea, then started crying again. She couldn't call 9-1-1 without a phone.

Forgetting for a moment that no one was listening to her, she grabbed her father's door handle. It took some struggling, but she managed to move it. The door swung open, Jack leaning against it partway until his seatbelt stopped him from moving further.

"Daddy?" Lizzy tugged on his arm, getting only a low groan in response. "Daddy? Should I call 9-1-1 like Mommy said? I need a phone."

Jack didn't respond. Frustrated, Lizzy raised her voice. "Daddy! Daddy, help!"

Just as she was about to start crying again, she saw the cell phone attached to his belt. Opening the cover, she pulled it out, trying to remember what to do.

The numbers glowed in the darkness. Looking at them, Lizzy picked out the ones she needed and dialed, doing exactly as she had been told.

"9-1-1," a voice responded.

Lizzy started crying again. "Help!" she wailed into the phone.

"What do you need help with?"

"An emergency."

"What's the emergency?"

Lizzy walked over to the side of the road, looking at the cars. She had been standing next to her father, but then she had remembered that she should never stand in the middle of the street.

Sitting down in the mud, she responded, "Our car's all squished. There's another squished car, too."

"Where are you at?" Cell phones gave no location.

"Outside."

"Where outside?"

"I dunno." Lizzy's voice trembled. "We was going home from Aunt Helga's house."

"Where does your Aunt Helga live?"

"LA."

The operator checked; it was unlikely that she would be fielding a call from LA. "Do you know what town you're in now?"

"No."

"Are there any street signs?"

"Uh-huh."

"What do they say?"

"I dunno."

"How old are you?"

"I'm four."

"Can you read at all?"

"I can read my name."

"Okay. Do you know your numbers and alphabet?"

"Yeah."

"Well, can you tell me what numbers and letters are in the street sign?"

Lizzy squinted, looking at one of them. "It says V-A-N-B-U-R-E-N."

"Okay, Van Buren. Can you tell me the letters in the other one?"

"It says..." Lizzy brightened. "I can read it! It says Lizzy! Just like my name!"

"Okay, Lizzy. Thank you. There'll be some people to help soon. Are you in the car?"

"No."

"Well, then, I want you to stay out of the street, okay? Go over to the side."

"I am."

"Who else was in the car?"

Lizzy whimpered. "Mommy, and Daddy, and Baby Paul--they won't do nothing. How come they won't do nothing?"

"I don't know, Lizzy. Can you stay on the phone until someone gets there?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, Lizzy. Keep an eye out. Are you okay?"

"I cut my finger and I skinned my knee."

"Are you bleeding?"

"No. But Baby Paul was. His head was bleeding. I saw it. It was gross."

"I can imagine." The operator sent out that bit of information. "What's your last name, Lizzy?"

"Dawson."

"Is that everybody else's last name, too?"

"Uh-huh. My daddy is Jack, and my mommy is Rose, and my little brother is Paul." She jumped up, shouting into the phone. "There's a police car! Is the police gonna help?"

"Maybe, Lizzy. You just stay on the phone until I say it's okay."

*****

Jack awakened slowly, feeling sharp pains in his jaw and left arm. He had a vague recollection of something yanking on his arm before, but he wasn't sure what it had been. He tried to move his arm, gritting his teeth as a severe pain shot through it.

_Broken. Or badly sprained,_ he thought, trying to sit up. He was surprised to find himself leaning over the pavement, held in place by his seatbelt.

When he was back in his seat, he felt his jaw, hoping that it wasn't broken. At least he knew what had knocked him out--a blow to the jaw, rather than another brain injury. That, at least, was something to be thankful for.

He looked around, bleary-eyed. Rose was slumped over the dashboard, holding her stomach and moaning softly. He tried to get her attention, but she was too stunned and confused to know what was happening. Turning to the back, he looked for the kids.

At first, he couldn't see anything. Then, his breath caught in horror as he saw Paul lying in his car seat, halfway across the back seat. The baby's head was bleeding profusely.

He reached for the child, then stopped as another pain shot up his arm. He couldn't get to him from where he was. Climbing carefully out of the car, he went to the back, only to stop short as he realized that Lizzy's door was open and she was gone.

Forgetting Paul for a moment, he turned to scan the darkness around the car, wondering if she had been thrown from it. A moment later, he heard a shout from the side of the road and saw flashing lights approaching. Turning toward the shout, he saw Lizzy sitting in the mud, his cell phone to her ear.

"Lizzy!" He tried to move towards her, but stumbled, dizzy from the blow to his jaw. Lizzy saw him and shrieked.

"Daddy!" She yelled into the phone. "My daddy's awake! He got out of the car!"

Jack almost fell over what was left of the front of the car. Steadying himself, he staggered over to where Lizzy was, taking the phone from her. "Hello? Who is this?"

"This is 9-1-1. Who is this?"

"This is Jack Dawson."

"Lizzy's father?"

"Yes."

"Your daughter called 9-1-1 herself. You should commend her for that. Are the emergency personnel there yet?"

"Yes...yes, here they are." Jack looked at the phone as it beeped; the battery was dying. "Can I hang up now? The battery is about run out."

"Yes. Go ahead. They're there to help you."

*****

The intersection was a noisy, flashing melee of ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks. A passer-by--the first they had seen since the accident--slowed down to stare, but quickly moved on as a police officer turned to look at them.

One of the paramedics approached Jack. "Sir, sit down. You look like you're about to fall."

"I can't. I have to help Paul and Rose."

"Daddy!" Lizzy threw her arms around his legs, almost tripping him. "Daddy, I called 9-1-1!"

"I know you did, Lizzy. Thank you. That was a smart thing to do."

"Thank you, Daddy. Are you okay?" Lizzy looked at him strangely.

"I'm fine," Jack started to say, but at that moment the world tilted strangely, and the next thing he knew, two paramedics were moving him to a gurney.

"Daddy..." Lizzy followed, grabbing his arm when he was lying down.

Jack yelped in pain. "Lizzy, sweetie, don't do that, okay? I hurt my arm."

"Sorry, Daddy. Where's Mommy and Baby Paul?"

Jack looked toward the cars, remembering. "Let me up."

One of the paramedics strapped him down. "I can't do that. You need to stay still."

"My wife and son are in there! They're hurt!"

"We're doing everything we can." A police officer took Lizzy aside, setting her in the back of the police car out of the rain.

"Are you gonna arrest us?" Lizzy wanted to know.

The cop turned around. "What?"

"Are you gonna arrest us?"

"No, we're not going to arrest you. The ambulance is going to take you to the hospital."

"I was born in a hospital."

"Good." The cop wasn't paying much attention.

Lizzy's eyes widened as a large piece of machinery was moved toward her mother's side of the car. Jumping out of the police car, she darted past the cop, running toward the wreck.

He grabbed her, preventing her from going any further. Lizzy struggled furiously, screaming.

"Mommy! What are they doing to Mommy?"

"That's called the Jaws of Life. She couldn't get out of the car, so theyre going to cut her out."

Lizzy's eyes widened more. "No! Mommy!" she shrieked. She began to kick. "Let me go! You can't cut her up!"

"Nobody's going to cut her up. They're just getting her out of the car."

"I want Mommy! Now!"

"Settle down!"

Lizzy responded by screaming again, then going into a full-fledged temper tantrum. "I want my mommy! I want my daddy! Now! Now! Now!"

Another police officer came up to them, carrying a cardboard box. "Would this be yours, young lady?"

Lizzy stopped screaming to look at the box. "Barbie!" she cried, grabbing the box and holding it tightly. "Is Barbie okay?"

"Yes--Barbie's fine." She couldn't say the same for the girl's family, especially her baby brother, but she let her have that small consolation.

Rose's door had been pried open and the metal trapping her legs torn away. Lizzy watched as she was placed on a gurney, Rose crying quietly and still clutching her stomach.

"Mommy!" she called. "Mommy!"

Rose opened her eyes and looked in the direction of her daughter's voice. Lizzy saw this and waved.

"Are you okay, Mommy?"

The second the police officer let her go, she rushed toward where her parents and brother were being loaded into ambulances. "Mommy! Daddy! Are you okay?"

"Lizzy." Rose looked lovingly at her daughter before closing her eyes again.

"Mommy!"

"Come on, young lady." The police officer who had found her Barbie doll picked her up.

"Let go of me! You're a stranger!"

Rose pushed herself up as another paramedic pushed her into the back of the ambulance. "It's okay, Lizzy. She won't hurt you."

"You're going to ride with your mommy, okay?"

"Okay." Lizzy sniffed, ready to cry again. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"I'll be okay, Lizzy," Rose assured her, squeezing her hand. "We're all going to the hospital."

"Okay, Mommy." Lizzy was trying to be brave. "Where's Daddy and Baby Paul?"

"They're in the other ambulance, sweetie. Settle down now so we can go."

Lizzy gulped back her tears. "They're gonna be okay, right, Mommy?"

"I hope so, Lizzy. I really hope so."


	99. A Death in the Family 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter Ninety-Nine

_Parkview Hospital  
Riverside, California_

The ambulances pulled up in front of the emergency room, sirens still wailing. In moments, the paramedics had unloaded the gurneys from the ambulances and were wheeling them inside. One of the drivers carried Lizzy in, wailing but unhurt.

Quickly, doctors and nurses surrounded the new patients, wheeling them into the back for examination and treatment. There was no time for paperwork or to obtain their charts, but fortunately Jack was lucid enough to inform one of the doctors that their usual medical care was conducted at Riverside Medical Clinic, which was affiliated with Parkview.

Everyone was taken into the treatment area of the emergency room, even Lizzy, in spite of her lack of outward injury. Sometimes internal injuries couldn't be diagnosed without an examination. For the others, the emergency was obvious, but Lizzy was also brought in immediately anyway. In most cases, less severely injured or ill patients had to wait until the more severe cases were taken care of, but Lizzy had no supervision and couldn't be expected to watch herself, especially under such frightening circumstances, so she was brought in immediately, if only to keep her safe.

*****

Jack stood beside the X-ray table, extending his painful arm for X-raying. His jaw had also been X-rayed, though he had a feeling that it wasn't broken, since he could speak clearly enough and move it.

The technician finished the X-rays and nodded to Jack, indicating that he could go back the tiny emergency room cubicle he had been assigned to.

Once there, he sat down on the bed, waiting for the doctor. He was feeling better now, his head clearer. He was almost glad for the pain in his jaw and arm—it gave him something to think about besides his worry.

Where were Rose and Paul? They'd both been badly hurt in the accident, or at least it had appeared that way to him. He hoped that appearances were wrong, that they weren't as badly injured as he thought, but Paul had made no response to anything during the ambulance ride and had had to be intubated so that he could breathe. Rose had needed the Jaws of Life to extract her from the mangled car, and when he had tried to get her attention before that, she had been too stunned and confused to answer him.

At least Lizzy seemed to be all right. They had her to thank for calling 9-1-1 and getting the help that they needed. Rose had taught her what to do in an emergency, and Lizzy had learned it well.

But what if there was something wrong with her? Some insidious internal injury that hadn't been immediately apparent? Internal injuries could be more dangerous than external ones sometimes.

Jack continued worrying until the doctor came back in with his X-rays. Looking up at him, he braced himself for the news of whatever was wrong with him.

"Mr. Dawson, I have your X-rays here," the doctor told him.

"What do they show?"

"Your lower arm has a small fracture." He showed Jack the X-ray, pointing it out to him.

Jack nodded. "What about my jaw?"

"Just badly bruised. I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory painkillers and have that arm put in a cast."

Jack nodded, glad that at least it was his left arm that was broken, not the right one, which he needed for drawing and writing. And his jaw was only bruised, so it would be okay, also.

"How long should it take to have the cast put on?" he asked. "My wife and kids were in the accident also, and I'd like to see how they are."

"That depends upon how cooperative you are and how fast the cast sets. I suggest we take care of that immediately."

Jack nodded, once again leaving the cubicle.

*****

Rose lay on the narrow emergency room bed, an IV attached to her arm. The other arm had been put in a sling after her dislocated shoulder had been treated. It hurt, but she had been given some mild painkillers, which helped the shoulder as well as the pain from the ugly bruise on her forehead, sustained when she had hit the dashboard. The airbag had failed to work, making things worse for her, but at least she would be all right once she healed.

What couldn't be helped, though, was the grief and anguish she felt inside. She turned her head away, trying to hide her tears, as a nurse came to check on her.

Her injuries hadn't been as serious as she had feared, but they had been sufficient for her body to let go of the new life she was carrying. She had never miscarried before, and while the pain had ended and the bleeding had been stemmed, she was still grieving for her lost child, for the little person who had never had a chance to be born.

The whole event had been painful and terrifying. First the collision, and the sound of sirens in the distance. Then the Jaws of Life ripping the door away, and the paramedics taking her from the car while Lizzy screamed. Then the ride to the hospital, sirens blaring, and the agonizing cramps in her lower abdomen, and the flow of blood—so much that she had needed a blood transfusion when she got to the emergency room. She had known that she was losing the baby, but she hadn't quite believed it until the doctor examined her and confirmed what she already knew.

She tried to console herself. Helga was right; it was healthier to wait longer before having another baby, at least until Paul was weaned. Maybe there would have been something wrong with the baby anyway, and that was why she lost it so easily. She and Jack had only planned on having two children anyway.

But all the logic in the world couldn't change how she felt. Her unborn baby, her _child_, had died, and she had never had a chance to hold it, to care for it, to get to know it. Maybe it would have felt worse if she had, maybe she would feel worse if it had been Lizzy or Paul that had died. She didn't know.

She couldn't lie to herself. They might not have planned on having a third child, but if she had really been set on not getting pregnant again, she would have gone to a pharmacy and gotten the morning after pill when they forgot to use a condom. To be sure, she didn't want to expose Paul to the extra hormones, but she could have fed him formula for a few days while pumping and throwing out her own milk so the supply wouldn't diminish.

Rose closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, as someone entered the cubicle and came to stand beside her. She didn't want to talk to anymore doctors or nurses at the moment. She wanted to be allowed to get up and go to her children and husband, but she knew that she was supposed to be resting and wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere.

She opened her eyes, though, when someone touched her arm. "Rose."

She looked up into Jack's worried face and immediately sat up, ignoring her painful shoulder and the IV in her other arm.

"Jack!" She threw her good arm around him, yanking painfully at the IV. "Jack! Thank God! I was so worried about you."

"I'm going to be okay, Rose. I just have a broken arm and some nasty bruises." He touched her tear-streaked face. "What about you? What did the doctor say?" He looked at the bruise on her forehead and the sling on her right arm.

"I'll heal. I have a minor concussion, but it'll get better. My shoulder's dislocated, but it'll heal, too. But…" Her eyes filled with tears again.

"What is it, Rose? What's wrong?"

"Jack, I lost the baby." Her words ended in a sob, and she put her head on his shoulder, crying uncontrollably.

"Oh, Rose. Rose, I'm so sorry." He put his arms around her, rubbing her back and rocking her gently.

"I should be able to have more babies later, if I want, but…but I wanted this one."

"I know, Rose. I know. I wanted it, too. At least you're going to be okay, though. That's something."

They stayed that for several minutes, just hugging and trying to comfort each other, until another doctor stepped into the cubicle.

"Mr. Dawson?"

Jack looked up. "Yes?"

"We need to you to come up to pediatric intensive care. It's about your son…"

"What about him?" Rose demanded, pulling out of Jack's embrace and looking at the doctor. "What's wrong with him?"

He hesitated. "Mrs. Dawson…it's very bad."

"I'm coming, too." She began to move off the bed.

A nurse who had followed the doctor in rushed to her side. "Mrs. Dawson, you need to stay here."

"No!" Rose got to her feet, reaching for the IV pole. "My baby is hurt, and I'm going to see him, if I have to crawl to get there."

Seeing that there was no dissuading her, the nurse sighed. "Mrs. Dawson, please sit down. I'll bring you a wheelchair."

Rose sat back down on the edge of the bed, looking at Jack with a stricken face. What was wrong with Paul? How severe were his injuries?

When the nurse brought a wheelchair, Rose sat down in it quickly, wanting to get to her son as soon as possible.

*****

When they reached pediatric intensive care, there was no keeping Rose in the wheelchair. Grabbing Jack's arm for support, she hurried forward, dragging the IV pole with her.

Paul lay on a tiny bed, hooked up to a respirator. Rose's face paled at the sight of him, lying there so still and silent. It was like the time that Jack had been injured and had gone into a coma. But this was worse. Even without medical training, Rose could see that it was worse.

Half of the baby's face was smashed, the bandages only partially hiding it. If he survived, he would need extensive plastic surgery to repair the damage. His head was also misshapen by the blow, leaving one side looking oddly flat.

Rose looked up at Jack, who was also staring at their son, fists clenching the rail that kept the baby from falling out of bed. At last, he looked away and turned to the doctor.

"What's the prognosis?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The doctor hesitated. "Mr. Dawson…"

"Just tell me what it is."

"He's had two negative EEG's. Examinations show no blood flow to the brain. I'm not sure if you know what this means…"

"It means brain death," Jack replied, clutching the rails on the bed. "I've studied the brain enough to know."

"Then you also know that it's…irreversible."

"Yes."

Rose knew what it meant, too. She had spent enough time studying with Jack to have picked up some of what he was learning.

"No!" She moved toward the doctor. "There must be some mistake. He's just a baby. Babies' brains aren't as developed as those of older children and adults. How can you be sure?"

"I can show you the EEG's."

"Yes. Show us. Jack, you know about the brain. What's your opinion on this?"

Jack looked at the EEG's, trying to find some sign that the doctor was wrong, that there was still some brain activity in the baby, but the EEG's were completely flat, showing no sign of brain waves.

Still, he grasped at straws. "Did you medicate him at all? Were Phenobarbital or other mind-altering drugs administered?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, and blood tests for those substances were negative. They hadn't been administered any time within the last twenty-four hours."

"I don't think they've ever been administered," Rose spoke up. "Just antibiotics, cough syrup, vaccines, and baby Tylenol. That's all he's ever been given. I haven't taken any drugs myself, either, so he couldn't have gotten them through my milk."

"And those wouldn't cause a negative EEG." He looked at the stricken parents, clinging to each other for comfort. "I'm sorry."

Rose turned back to her son, reaching to touch a tiny hand. He didn't respond.

"Oh, Paul…" Her eyes filled with tears again. "My baby. My little boy."

Jack stood beside her for a moment, one arm around her, the other hand reaching to touch the baby's face, careful not to let the cast bruise him.

"Jack," Rose whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"There's nothing that we can do, Rose. He can't live without brain function. The only reason that his heart is still beating is because of the respirator. It provides the oxygen needed to make the heart beat. When it's stopped, his heart will stop, too."

"And there's nothing that anyone can do for him." Rose's voice was flat and dull.

"No. I wish there were. Even if the technology existed to transplant a brain, or grow a new one, it wouldn't be Paul. It wouldn't have his memories or personality, and it wouldn't know us. Basically, he's dead."

"No." Rose looked down, tears falling on the infant. "It's not right. He's just a baby. He hasn't even lived a year yet." With a sob, she pulled away from Jack and began pacing the small room. "It isn't fair. How can he be dead? The driver of the other car…I found out what happened to him. He walked away. _He walked away._ He wasn't injured at all. In fact, he blames us for wrecking his car. He was drunk, and he hit us, and he wasn't even hurt! And Paul's dying! He's just a baby, and he's dying! And we're hurt, and I lost my unborn baby! Why did this have to happen? _Why?_"

Jack strode across the room as she stopped, leaning against the wall in anguish. "I don't know, Rose. Nobody does."

His voice broke. Rose stepped away from the wall, embracing him as a tear ran down his face. "Oh, Jack…"

"We have to make a decision, Rose. We could leave him here, on life support, but he won't get better. Or, we can have him taken off the ventilator, and…let him go." He could hardly get the words out.

Rose buried her head in his shoulder. "I don't want to let him go."

"He's dead, though, Rose. Leaving him on life support…would only keep him going for a while. He'll never move, or make a sound, or anything. He'll just…lie there."

"I know." Rose returned to the baby, holding his tiny hands. Mouth trembling, she decided, "We have to let him go. It isn't fair to him to keep him here when his life is over. If we let him go…he can go to be with his great-grandfathers, and your parents, and my father. He won't…be alone. Maybe he'll even have his little brother or sister with him."

"All right." Jack put his arms around her, looking at the still, silent infant.

The doctor, having overheard their words, stepped forward. "If you will sign these papers, please…"

Rose took them, looking at Jack, who was leaning over the bed, stroking the baby's hands and feet while his tears fell on the sheet. She quickly looked the papers over, and was about to sign them when another thought occurred to her.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"Aside from his head, how badly is he injured?"

"It's just the head injury, and some minor cuts and bruises."

Jack looked up at her. "Rose, you can't be hoping…"

Rose shook her head. "No. I know that there's no hope for him. But…could he be an organ donor? He was a healthy baby, up until now. Maybe some other families won't…won't have to go through this…if their sick babies can use Paul's organs."

Jack started to object. He didn't want anyone to cut the child open and remove his organs. Then he stopped. Rose was right; Paul's organs might save the lives of other children, and the baby certainly didn't need them anymore. And once he was buried, everything would rot away anyway.

"Go ahead," he told them.

They signed the forms, including the ones for organ donation, and then stepped away as the doctors placed cannulas in the baby's blood vessels to cool his organs. As the doctor was about to disconnect the respirator, Rose returned to him.

"Can we at least hold him one more time?" she begged, looking at Paul. Maybe he couldn't know what was happening, but she wondered if there might be a consciousness beyond the brain, and even if there wasn't, and he truly didn't know what was happening, she and Jack did, and they wanted a chance to say good-bye.

"Sure." The doctor disconnected the respirator, then lifted the baby and placed him the arms of his waiting parents.

Rose pulled off the sling and took him in her arms, rocking him gently. Jack sat beside her, his arms around both her and the baby, holding the baby's little hands for the last time.

Rose clung to the infant, whispering brokenly to him.

"Paul…Baby Paul…we love you so much. So much. Remember that. Always remember that. You're going on to a better place, where there aren't any car accidents and nothing ever hurts. We won't be there…not for a long time, I hope…but there's people there who love you and will take care of you. Your great-grandpa thought the world of you, and he'll be there for you. And there's other people that you've never met who love you, too. Your daddy's parents are there, and so is my daddy, and so is my grandpa, who died before you were born. There'll be plenty of people who love you and want to see you. Your daddy's parents always wanted another baby, so now they'll have you to love and take care of…"

She stopped, hugging him close. "You go now, Paul. We'll miss you, but just remember that we'll always love you, and we'll see you again when it's time."

"Rose." She glanced up at Jack. "Rose, he's gone." He pointed to the heart monitor, which had gone flat.

Rose clung to the baby, refusing to let the nurse take him away. "No…not yet. Just a little longer. Please."

"Ma'am…I have to take him now if you want to donate his organs."

Rose shook her head, setting her trembling mouth and scooting away. "No. You can't have him."

The nurse looked at Jack, unsure of what to do. He nodded reluctantly, giving her permission to take the baby.

She had to pry Paul out of Rose's arms. Rose clung stubbornly to him, not wanting to let him go. When the nurse finally succeeded in taking him away, Rose sat in shock for a moment, then leaped to her feet, unmindful of the fact that she tore out her IV, and chased after her.

"No! Give him back! You can't take him yet! _I want him back_!"

Jack caught her, holding her back as the nurse hurried from the room. "Rose, stop. You have to let him go."

"Let go of me, Jack. Let go of me! Can't you see what she's doing? She's taking our baby away!"

"Rose, he's dead, and they're going to do what you wanted."

"I don't care! I want him back! Jack, he's only a baby. He can't be dead. He just can't be."

"He is, Rose. I wish to God that this hadn't happened, but it did."

"You don't care at all, do you?"

Jack stared at her, mouth hanging open in shock. "Yes, I care! I love him with everything in me. I'd trade my life for his if I thought it would bring him back, but it won't! Nothing can."

Rose pulled away and headed for the door. She hadn't gone three steps when she collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

Jack sat down beside her, pulling her up and holding her close.

"Jack, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay, Rose. You're…upset. We both are."

"I know. Oh, Jack, I can't believe he's gone. He was so little, and he'll never grow up, or enjoy all the things that life has to offer, or go to school, or play…it's all over, and he hardly had time for anything."

"You were the best mother he could have asked for, Rose. You gave him so much."

"I wish I'd had more time with him."

"You carried him inside you for nine months. You were with him every day for hours. You loved him and cared for him. He adored you. What more could you have given him?"

"I don't know. I never thought this would happen. Things like this don't happen in real life—they're something you read about in the newspaper, or see on television. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"I know. I know."

Jack couldn't think of anything else to say, so he just sat on the floor with Rose, holding her close and stroking her hair.


	100. A Death in the Family 4

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred

Jack and Rose sat on the floor of the hospital room, holding each other, until their tears had subsided. Finally, Rose sat up, her good arm still around Jack. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she got up, helping Jack to his feet.

Jack helped her put her arm back in the sling, then put his good arm around her and walked her to the door, ignoring the janitor who had come to clean the now-empty room. When they were in the hallway, he turned to her.

"The doctor told me I was well enough to go home. I don't know about you, though."

"I'm going home," Rose told him, turning her tear-streaked face to his. "I don't want to stay here. What time is it, anyway?"

Jack looked around the hallway, finally locating a clock. "It's about 4:30 AM."

"Then we should fetch Lizzy…where is Lizzy? She is all right, isn't she?" Her eyes widened with fear. She couldn't lose all of her children in one night. Life couldn't be that unfair.

"Lizzy's fine, Rose." His arm still around her, he turned them in the direction of the elevator. "They brought her to me before I went to see you. I called Mari, and she came and got her. Mari wanted to stay for us, but I convinced her to take Lizzy back to the apartment."

Rose exhaled in relief, but looked up at him anyway. "She…she's not hurt?"

"Nothing that a few band-aids can't fix. She had a couple of cuts and scrapes and a few bruises. Mostly, she's just scared out of her wits."

"I can imagine." Rose sighed, leaning against him. "Poor Lizzy…being in that horrible car accident and calling 9-1-1 by herself…where did she get a phone, by the way?"

"She took the cell phone from my belt. She's a smart, level-headed girl—especially for a four-year-old."

Rose's eyes teared up again. "We'll have to tell her about Paul. Oh, Jack, how are we going to explain to her that her baby brother is gone and isn't coming back? I don't know if she'll understand."

"She'll understand eventually. She has to. Even if we can't quite explain it to her satisfaction, she'll notice that he's not there."

"I don't know, Jack. She's so young…when David died, I tried to explain death to her, but she didn't understand until we went to the funeral and she saw him in his casket. And even then, it took her a while to stop asking if we were going to see him."

"Maybe she'll understand better this time." Jack embraced her for a moment before turning and escorting her toward the elevator. He stopped an orderly in the hall. "Excuse me. I've been discharged from the hospital, but I don't know if my wife is ready to leave. Who should we ask to find out?"

Rose shook her head. "I'm going home, Jack. I want to be with you and Lizzy, not stuck here in the hospital."

"Rose, you know I don't usually insist on anything, but…tonight I lost my son and my unborn child. I'm not going to lose you, too. If the doctor wants you to stay, you're staying."

"No, Jack."

"Yes, Rose."

"No!" Rose's eyes filled with tears again. "I am not staying here!"

The orderly cleared his throat. "Who's your doctor, ma'am?"

Rose wiped her eyes, then turned to him. "I don't know. I was in the emergency room."

"Then you should go back to the emergency room to find out if you can be discharged or not."

"I'm not staying here!" Rose insisted.

Jack looked at her tiredly. "Rose…maybe we should talk to the doctor before making any decisions. Fair enough?"

"Jack…"

"Please, Rose."

Rose looked down. Jack seldom pleaded with her for anything.

"All right, Jack. We'll see what the doctor says."

*****

The doctor agreed to release Rose from the hospital, but reluctantly, allowing it only after Rose promised she would rest and agreed to come back immediately if she developed a fever, dizziness, or heavy bleeding.

When Rose joined Jack in the waiting room, she realized something. "Jack…how are we going to get home?"

"I thought about calling Mari, but I didn't want to disturb Lizzy. I'll call a cab. I think we have enough cash between us to cover the fare."

Rose nodded slowly. "I got cash from an ATM yesterday…or was it two days ago?" _Back when everything was normal_, she thought. _A lifetime ago…even if it was only a few hours._

Jack put his good arm around her, clumsily dialing the number for a local cab company into his cell phone with his other hand. Within a few minutes, a cab was on the way, and half an hour later they pulled up in front of their apartment.

After paying the driver, they made their way to the door, Jack reaching into his pocket for his keys and only then realizing that they had been lost in the accident.

"Rose, do you have your keys?"

Rose dug exhaustedly into her purse, which had been salvaged from the wreckage, largely because the strap had been around one of her feet when she was taken from the car. "Here—" she started to say when the door opened, a sleepy-eyed Mari standing in the doorway.

Jack and Rose followed her inside, more glad than ever that they had given Mari a key to the apartment not long after they had moved there.

Mari spoke to them in a low voice. "Thank God you guys are okay! When Jack called and asked me to pick up Lizzy, I was so worried…" She noticed something then. "Where's Paul? Is he in the hospital?"

Rose's face crumpled at the mention of her son's name, while Jack clenched his already painful jaw tightly in an effort to control his emotions. "Paul…he…he didn't make it, Mari," he told her.

Mari stared at them in shock. "He…he died? But he was just a baby…"

Rose sank onto the couch, wiping her eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. "The other car hit right where he was. His head was partially crushed…he was brain dead when we went to see him in the hospital. We…we decided to take him off life support and donate his organs."

"Oh, my God. Poor little Paul…and poor you. What an awful decision to have to make…and he was just a baby. I can't believe he's gone…"

"Neither can we, Mari," Rose responded. "I…I guess it'll sink in eventually. We have to tell Lizzy…I don't know if she'll understand." Rose looked toward the hallway, then back at Mari. "She is okay, isn't she, Mari? Jack said she wasn't badly hurt…"

"She's okay, Rose. I put her to bed when we got here, and she fell right back asleep. She slept most of the way from the hospital. I'm lucky I didn't get pulled over…I didn't have a car seat for her."

"We'll have to get her another one," Rose said dully, relieved that Lizzy was okay but exhausted now. She leaned against Jack, whose exhaustion was also showing.

"Why don't you guys go to bed? I'll stay here and take care of Lizzy…I'll bring her to you when she wakes up." Mari was beginning to get teary-eyed. "Poor little Paul…I just can't believe it."

"Mommy? Daddy?"

All three adults looked up as Lizzy wandered sleepily out of the hallway, rubbing her eyes. The little girl was clutching her old security blanket, which she had begun to regard as babyish and seldom asked for anymore.

"Lizzy…" Rose held out her arms, finally assured that her daughter was going to be fine. Lizzy climbed up on the couch and snuggled into her mother's arms.

"Where were you?" Lizzy wanted to know. "How come you didn't come home with me and Aunt Mari?"

"We were getting some owies taken care of," Rose told her, using Lizzy's word for any kind of injury. "You see?"

She showed Lizzy her right arm in the sling, and the cast on Jack's left arm. Lizzy looked at them with interest for a moment, then looked back up at her parents' faces.

"Mommy…your forehead looks funny."

"I bruised it, sweetie. It'll be okay. Your daddy has a bruise, too."

"Where?"

"Right here, Lizzy." Jack showed her his jaw.

Curious, Lizzy reached up and touched her father's jaw, running her fingers gently along it. She wrinkled her nose.

"It's prickly," she told him.

Ruefully, Jack touched it himself. He needed to shave, but he doubted that he would try it until the bruise was healed and it wasn't painful.

Lizzy looked around, noticing that someone was missing.

"Where's Baby Paul?" she asked. "Is he still getting his owies fixed?"

"Lizzy…" Rose's voice broke.

Jack put his arms around both Lizzy and Rose. "There's something we need to talk about."

Lizzy stared at him, wide-eyed. "What did I do?" she asked, looking fearfully from him to Rose. 'We need to talk' usually meant that she'd done something wrong, and was about to be put in a time-out.

"Oh, Lizzy." Rose hugged her tighter. "You didn't do anything wrong. You called 9-1-1, just like I taught you. Thank you, Lizzy."

"You're welcome, Mommy." Lizzy hugged her back, but she was growing very uneasy. Her mother looked like she'd been crying, and Aunt Mari looked like she was about to cry, too. "What's wrong, Mommy? Does it hurt that bad?" She looked at Rose's arm.

"No, Busy-Lizzy. I'm okay. We just…have something very sad to tell you."

"What, Mommy?" Lizzy looked up at her, worried.

When Rose covered her eyes and whispered, "You tell her, Jack," in a broken voice, the child became even more concerned.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" she asked, crawling into his lap.

"Lizzy…your baby brother…" Jack stopped, looking at Rose helplessly. How did they break the news of a sibling's death to a small child?

"What about him?" Lizzy wanted to know, almost ready to cry herself. Something wasn't right, and she knew it.

Rose took over. "Remember, Lizzy, when your great-grandpa died a few months ago? Remember how I told you that he'd gone to heaven, even though he'd miss us?"

"Uh-huh." Lizzy looked at her, not understanding what she was trying to say.

"Well, Lizzy, he doesn't miss Baby Paul anymore."

"Why not? Did he forget him?" The four-year-old still didn't understand.

"No, Lizzy. He didn't forget him. Baby Paul has gone to heaven, too."

"How come he gets to visit and I don't?"

"Lizzy…" Rose moved closer, putting her good arm around her husband and daughter. "Baby Paul didn't go for a visit. You can't visit heaven and come back."

"He's not coming back?"

"No, sweetie. He isn't coming back."

"Why?"

"Because he died, Lizzy." Rose's eyes overflowed. "He died just a little while ago."

"Why?"

"Because he was badly hurt, and it was too much for his body. It wasn't going to work anymore, so his soul left and went to heaven."

"But his body is still here?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean he's in two places? Can he tell me about heaven when he gets bigger?"

"No, Lizzy." Jack hugged her tighter. "His soul was what made him alive. Without it, his body won't do anything, and will have to be buried."

Lizzy thought about this for a moment, then nodded. "Like the gopher that Aunt Mari and me found? It died, and Aunt Mari pushed it back into its hole and pushed the dirt over it. She said it would rot and make food for the flowers."

"Yes, like that."

"But, Daddy, I don't want you to bury Baby Paul. Can't you change your mind?"

"No, Lizzy. I wish I could, but I can't."

"Why?"

"Because, if we don't bury him, he'll rot anyway." Jack couldn't believe he was saying this about his son. "And that wouldn't be good for all the people around him. It might make them sick, and the flowers wouldn't have him for food."

"So I can't play with him anymore?"

"No."

"And he's never going to come back?"

"I'm afraid not, sweetie." Rose stroked the girl's head.

And in that moment, Lizzy finally comprehended what her brother's death meant.

"No!" she howled, kicking her feet furiously. "I don't want him to be gone! Mommy, make him come back. Make him come back right now!" Her face scrunched up angrily.

"I can't, Lizzy. I wish I could."

"That's not fair! I didn't get to teach him to play Candyland, and he's never gonna get to be a big brother!" Lizzy struggled out of her father's arms. "It's no fair!" Bursting into tears, she raced away from her parents and ran into the hall bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Slowly, Jack got up and went to the bathroom door. "Lizzy? Lizzy, sweetie, come out here."

"No!"

"Come on, Lizzy."

"No! I wanna be with Baby Paul!"

"Lizzy." Rose got up, going over to the bathroom and opening the door. "You can't be with Baby Paul."

"I could die, too," Lizzy suggested.

"No, Lizzy." The very thought made Rose's heart clench. "Your daddy and I would miss you very much if you did. We want you to stay with us." She doubted that Lizzy really comprehended what her own death would mean.

"I don't care!"

"We do." Rose stepped into the bathroom, crouching down before her crying daughter, who had crawled into the cabinet under the sink, her favorite place to hide. "Come on, Busy Lizzy."

"I want Baby Paul!"

"I wish I could bring him back, Lizzy, more than anything. But I can't. He has lots of people to take care of him, though. He's in heaven now."

Lizzy finally crawled out from under the sink and into Rose's embrace. Rose picked her up with her good arm, staggering a little under the child's weight.

Jack was standing in the doorway. Taking the little girl from Rose, he cradled her against his shoulder, listening to her cry.

"Come on, Lizzy. Your mommy and I are tired and we need some sleep. You can come and sleep with us if you want."

"Okay, Daddy." Lizzy buried her face in his shoulder. "Is Aunt Mari gonna stay?"

"Of course I'll stay, Lizzy," Mari told her, wiping away a tear. "Your mommy and daddy need to rest, so I'll stay here and make sure everything's okay, and I'll fix you some breakfast when you get up."

"You don't have to stay, Mari," Rose told her. "I know you were looking forward to a few days off…"

Mari shrugged sadly. "What am I missing? A crowded mall? Hordes of people fighting over bargains? No, I'll stay here until I'm sure you guys are okay…at least until later today."

"Thank you, Mari." Rose stroked Lizzy's head. The little girl was nearly asleep again after wearing herself out crying. "You look tired yourself. You can sleep on the couch, if you like—or Lizzy's bed, if you'd prefer."

"Sure. I'll do that in a little bit. You guys are the ones who really need to lay down, after the night you've had. I'll be here when you wake up, and if Lizzy needs anything, I'll help her so you can rest."

"All right." Rose nodded, turning to follow Jack down the hall.


	101. A Death in the Family 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred One

_Sunday, November 30, 2008  
Riverside, California_

Rose sat at the kitchen table, absently sipping a cup of tea. It was five o'clock, much too early to be up, but she couldn't sleep. In spite of the continuing weakness caused by her miscarriage and her injuries, she was plagued by insomnia.

Today was Paul's funeral. Rose stared dully at the table, thinking about it. At three o'clock, they would bury the youngest member of the Dawson family. They had purchased a burial plot in the children's section of Riverside National Cemetery, as well as a small marker with Paul's name and the dates of his birth and death.

Paul's organs had been donated, just as she had requested, and although she didn't know the names of the recipients, she knew that several young children had benefited from those organs. His heart, lungs, liver, and kidneys had all gone to sick children in several parts of the country, and she could only hope that those children would survive, and that their families wouldn't have to go through what the Dawsons had.

Rose looked up as Jack came into the kitchen, wrapped in an old bathrobe. He looked at her for a moment before pulling over a chair beside hers, sitting down and putting an arm around her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Rose leaning into Jack's embrace.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked her finally. "I noticed you weren't in bed, so I came looking for you."

Rose nodded, her eyes filling with tears again. Jack had been continually loving and supportive of her, even though he was grieving, too.

"I'm okay," she whispered at last. "I just couldn't sleep, is all."

"Me, either. I woke up and found you gone, so I figured I might as well get up."

"Thanks." Rose leaned against him, sipping her tea. "I keep dreaming about him, about that awful night. Has it really been three days already?"

"Yeah. It's hard to believe. Life is going on, even with Paul gone."

"You know, I was right about Paul and cars. They were his life."

"How so?"

"He was conceived in that car, born in it…and died there, too. I guess it's just as well that the car was totaled…I don't think I could bring myself to drive it again."

"I don't think I could, either." Jack rubbed his eyes. "If only I'd been paying a little more attention…"

"It might have happened, anyway. After all, the other driver was drunk, speeding, and driving with his lights off in a dark area in the rain. It would have been virtually impossible to see him, no matter how careful you'd been. And you had no reason to think that he was there. That intersection is usually safe."

"I don't know, Rose. It just feels like I could have done something differently. If I had stayed on the freeway, this wouldn't have happened."

"Maybe not. But you couldn't have known it would happen. And if you had done something differently—braked sooner, or driven faster—it might have been worse. It could have all of us killed that night."

"It should have been me."

Rose turned to look at him. "Jack, no. Don't say that. It isn't a matter of should or shouldn't. It just happened."

"I was driving. That puts me in a position of responsibility."

"Jack, listen to me." Rose gently turned his face to hers. "You were not responsible. You weren't the one driving drunk. It shouldn't have happened, but it wasn't your fault. Not in any way." She could see from his face that he didn't believe her, so she pressed on. "You have to stop beating yourself up over this. I could claim some guilt, too. If I hadn't been sleeping, I might have seen the drunk driver coming. I might have been able to warn you. But no one had any idea that this would happen. This isn't the sort of thing that happens in real life. It's something that you hear about in the newspapers and on television. But it is real, and Paul is gone. No one is at fault but the drunk driver."

"Who wasn't even hurt." Jack leaned against her tiredly. "Goddamn him."

"I can't believe he wants to sue us for wrecking his car."

"I doubt that will get anywhere. It was obviously his fault."

"You see? Jack, remember what you just said. _It was obviously his fault._ You couldn't have prevented it. There was nothing you could do."

Jack looked away from her, but not before Rose saw the tears running down his face. Choking on a sob, she pulled him into her arms, holding him tight.

"I miss him, too," she murmured. "I never thought I'd say this, but I even miss diapers and midnight feedings."

"And the noises he'd make when he was content, and his smile."

"He won't ever have any more pain or suffering. We have to remember that. He's gone on to a better place. He's with your parents now, and my father. He isn't alone."

"I would rather he were still with us, and this was just another ordinary Sunday. We'd still be asleep in our room, and the kids in theirs. Then we'd have a relaxed breakfast, take Lizzy to the playground…all the usual things."

"I wonder if we'll ever get back to normal." Rose laid her head on his shoulder. "Everything has been turned upside down."

Jack didn't have an answer for that. It seemed like nothing would be normal ever again.

*****

"No! I wanna wear my red jumper!" Lizzy looked at Rose challengingly, perched on her bed in her underwear.

"Lizzy…you can't wear your red jumper to a funeral. It isn't appropriate." Rose sighed inwardly, realizing how much she sounded like her mother at the moment. "I want you to put on your navy blue dress."

"Why? Baby Paul liked red. He always smiled when I gave him a red toy."

Rose took a deep breath, trying to contain her temper. Lizzy had been whiny and irritable ever since they had told her that Paul had died. Nothing ever seemed to make her happy, and every request was met with the word why. On one level, Rose could understand why the child was misbehaving, but she wasn't making it any easier to cope.

"Lizzy…"

"Please, Mommy?"

Rose sighed. It was hard to resist Lizzy when she gave her that look, especially since she was finally being polite. And Rose had admit that she was right. Paul _had_ liked the color red. He'd had a red teddy bear that he had poked, tugged at, chewed on, and drooled over. It had been his favorite toy—which was why Jack and Rose had decided to have it buried with him.

"All right, Lizzy. You can wear your red jumper. But you still have to dress nicely. Here's your tights, and you're going to wear your pretty white blouse with it, okay?"

Lizzy slid off her bed. "Okay, Mommy. Can I wear my black patent leather shoes, too?"

"Sure, sweetie. Now, come on. Let's get you dressed."

Jack knocked on the door. "Everything okay in here?"

Rose opened the door, letting him in with relief. "Just fine. We're finally getting somewhere."

"Are you giving your mommy a hard time, Lizzy?"

Lizzy hung her head. "I wanna wear my red jumper. Baby Paul liked red."

"Go get your clothes, Lizzy, okay? We'll help you get dressed. Hurry up. We need to leave soon."

"Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I'm sorry I was bad."

"Oh, Lizzy." Rose gave her a hug. "You aren't bad. You just need to stop arguing with me about everything, okay?"

"I know." Lizzy headed over to the low bar in the closet and came back with her clothes.

Her parents quickly helped her dress, Rose making sure her blouse was buttoned straight and zipping the jumper, and Jack buckling the shoes onto her feet.

"All set, Busy Lizzy?" Jack asked, taking her hand as Rose slid two barrettes into the child's hair.

"Yeah. Daddy, what's a funeral for?"

"It's so that everybody can say good-bye to the person who died."

"But I thought Baby Paul was gone already."

"He is. It's just how people get together and remember him. A minister is going to talk about him and how he went to heaven, and we're going to bury his body."

"So we're saying bye to his body?"

Jack nodded, surprised at the child's perceptiveness. "Yes. We're saying good-bye to his body."

"And it'll be food for the flowers."

"Yes. And lots of people are going to bring flowers."

"Can I bring a flower?"

"Well, we already had a bouquet sent ahead. We gave him some flowers."

"I wanna give him that flower." Lizzy pointed to the row of small pots on the kitchen windowsill that Mari had helped her set up and plant. A radish plant, in spite of the lateness of the year, had bloomed, its white flowers drooping over the table.

"I don't see why not." Rose pulled a pair of safety scissors from a drawer. "You want to give him the radish flower, Lizzy?"

"Uh-huh."

Rose cut the flower and wrapped the end in a wet paper towel and tinfoil.

"Come on, Busy Lizzy. Let's go say good-bye to your brother."

*****

The sun shone brightly over the group assembled at the cemetery, oddly bright and cheerful for such a sad occasion. Weather as overcast and gloomy as the night Paul had died would have seemed more appropriate, but the Southern California climate didn't always cooperate.

Rose stood beside Jack, Lizzy standing in front of her with her arms wrapped around Rose's legs. Jack's good arm was around Rose's shoulders as they listened to the minister's voice drone on.

Neither of them had gone to church very often in the past few years, so it hadn't seemed appropriate to have a church funeral for Paul. But Rose had called on Reverend Kilpatrick, the minister of the church she had once attended in Masline, to conduct the funeral.

He had agreed to conduct the graveside service, refusing to allow her to pay him. He had known Rose since she was thirteen years old and had always thought well of her, even though he had seen her only a few times since he had married the Dawsons five years earlier.

Jack glanced at Rose as she leaned against him, wiping her eyes with a crumpled tissue, and pulled her closer, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. Her body shuddered in a sob and Lizzy looked up at her, patting her hand.

"It's okay, Mommy. Baby Paul's gone to heaven. They'll take good care of him there."

"Thank you, Lizzy." Rose squeezed the little girl's hand gently, pulling her close and putting a hand on her shoulder.

Jack looked at the flower-covered casket as Reverend Kilpatrick ended his sermon, standing aside as the bouquets of flowers were removed and the tiny casket was lowered into the ground. He blinked rapidly to hold back tears as the entire group moved forward to pay their last respects to the baby whose life had been short, but full of love.

There were only a few people there—Paul's life had been too short to have really touched many other lives. Helga and Bill were there, though they had left Daniel and Lena with a babysitter. Helga had thought it might be too frightening for Daniel to go to a funeral, especially since the child who had died was so close in age to his sister, and Lena was much too young to understand. Tommy and Sophie were there also, as were Mari and Kathleen Fleming, whose face was drawn and pale and looked every moment of her seventy years.

Jack and Rose stood beside the tiny grave, looking down at the plain, unadorned casket at the bottom of it. They had opted for a closed-casket funeral because of the nature of Paul's injuries. He hadn't looked good when he died, so they had decided to spare everyone the trauma of seeing the injuries that had killed him.

Slowly, aware of Rose and Lizzy at his side, Jack picked up a handful of dirt and squeezed it tightly before dropping it with a dull thud on the wooden box below. Rose followed suit, showing Lizzy how to drop her own handful of dirt on top of her baby brother's casket.

Silently, the Dawsons moved out of the way to allow everyone else to take their turn. Lizzy clung to her parents, her arms wrapped around a leg of each of them. Handing the umbrella to Rose, Jack picked her up, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Daddy?" Lizzy whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Why'd Baby Paul have to die?"

"I don't know, Lizzy. He was hurt very badly, and I guess God just decided to take him to heaven."

"I wish he was still here."

"Me, too, Lizzy. Me, too."


	102. Adjusting 1

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Two**

_Sunday, November 30, 2008  
Riverside, California_

Jack and Rose sat quietly in the car as they drove back to their apartment, Lizzy strapped into her new car seat in the back. The little girl was unusually quiet, as upset by the loss of her brother as her parents were.

As they stopped at a red light, Rose glanced back, seeing the line of cars following them back to their apartment. They were holding a small gathering in memory of Paul.

Looking back at the street ahead, Rose finally spoke. "My mother didn't come to the funeral."

"Did she know about it?"

"I left messages on her answering machine, both at home and at work, telling her that Paul had died and that his funeral would be this afternoon at three o'clock. I tried to call her cell phone, but she changed the number, so I couldn't reach her that way. I know she got the messages, since she always checks her answering machine, but she still didn't come." She paused, shaking her head sadly. "I guess I should have expected it. She didn't want me having more children after Lizzy, because it would affect my career."

"Maybe she couldn't get up here."

"She was probably working," Rose conceded. "She's always working. That was her excuse for not coming to our wedding, and if I asked her, she would probably make that excuse for not coming to Paul's funeral. I don't know. Maybe she's glad he died."

Jack gave her a shocked look. "Why do you say that?"

Rose remembered her mother's cruel words after Lizzy had been born. "She once told me that it was a pity I hadn't succeeded at committing suicide. If she cares so little for me, why would she care about a grandson she's hardly met?"

"I don't know." Jack shrugged helplessly, glancing at Rose, who was staring out the windshield at the street. He pulled into their apartment building's underground parking lot and brought the car to a stop.

"I guess I shouldn't complain—we would just have fought anyway, and said unkind things to each other. Maybe it's better that she didn't come."

Her eyes sad, Rose got out of the car and went to the back seat, unbuckling Lizzy and helping her out. Holding her daughter's hand, she went to Jack, who was waiting for them.

Jack put his arm around her as they started up the stairs to their apartment, holding her close and trying to comfort her. Lizzy just clutched her mother's hand, her eyes wide and sad.

*****

The Dawsons and their guests milled around the small apartment, not sure of what to do or say. Jack and Rose had wanted to get together with their friends again soon, but they hadn't thought that the next occasion would be a funeral.

The usually comfortable camaraderie was stifled, with no one knowing quite what to say to the parents who had lost a child. For the most part, they sat around the living room drinking coffee, or wandered from room to room, wanting to say something but not sure if it was right.

Everyone had brought food to the bereaved family, suspecting that they wouldn't be in the mood to cook or do much of anything for a while. Rose had thanked them quietly, putting some things out on the table for people to eat and other things in the refrigerator or the freezer.

As everyone sat around in the living room, sometimes talking quietly before an uncomfortable subject came up, Lizzy crawled into her father's lap. Her face and hands were sticky from the ice cream sandwich he had let her have, but he didn't object as she curled up in his arms and rested her head against his chest.

"Daddy?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"How come Daniel's not here with Aunt Helga and Uncle Bill?"

"They thought he was too young for this, so they left him and his sister with a baby-sitter."

"But he's older than me. His birthday comes first."

"I know, but it's what your Aunt Helga decided."

"I wish he was here. We could go play."

"That would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah. Daddy, when's everybody gonna leave?"

"Later, sweetie. We don't get to see them very much, so they'll be here for a while."

"I wish they'd go home."

"Lizzy, that's not nice. They're our friends."

"I know." Lizzy hung her head. "Do I have to stay out here, Daddy? Can I go to my room and play?"

"If you want. Let's get you cleaned up first, though."

Jack wouldn't admit it out loud, but he shared Lizzy's feelings—he wished that their guests would leave. They were his friends, and he liked them all very much, but at the moment he just wanted to be alone with Rose and Lizzy, where he could relax and not put on a dignified front for the others.

"Daddy? Can you come play Candyland with me?"

"Sure, Lizzy. I can do that." It would give him a chance to be away from everyone for a while.

Jack told Rose where he was going and went into the bathroom with the little girl to wash the ice cream off her face and hands. He had never felt so relieved when everyone was out of sight.

*****

Rose was glad for the company. Even though everyone was sad and uncomfortable, she was glad to have them there. Their presence gave her something to think about besides her grief and her disappointment that her mother hadn't come to the funeral.

She glanced toward the short hallway that Jack and Lizzy had disappeared down. She sensed that Jack wanted to be alone, but was reluctant to encourage their guests to leave, though they would have understood. No one was upset or offended, though, that Jack had gone to take care of Lizzy. The little girl needed comfort, too, and no one expected her to sit quietly with the adults.

Still, she wished he had stayed with her. His presence helped her more than anything. He was mourning the loss of Paul, too, and the loss of their unborn baby, but he was always there for her when she needed him—just as she was there for him.

It was dark outside now. Rose stood quietly and went to a window, looking outside. Cars, their headlights bright in the darkness, passed on the street. It was an ordinary Sunday for everyone else.

Finally, Kathleen stood up and went to stand beside her granddaughter. "Rose, I need to be heading for home. It's a long drive back to Palm Desert."

"You don't have to go, Nana. You can stay here the night if you want."

"You really don't have room here, and I'll admit that sleeping on the couch isn't all that easy with these old bones. Besides, I think your husband would like some privacy, which he won't have if I stay the night."

"Nana…"

"I'll call you when I get home, Rose. Okay?"

"Okay." Rose nodded reluctantly, hugging her grandmother. "Take care, Nana. It's dark and there's a lot of traffic from the holiday weekend."

"I will be, darling. You take care of yourself and your family. I know it's hard, but you need each other now more than ever."

Rose nodded, glancing down the hall, where a square of light from Lizzy's room was visible. "I'll walk you to your car."

When Rose returned, she found Bill and Helga getting ready to leave as well.

"We're going to get going, too, Rose," Helga told her. "It isn't such a long drive from Riverside to LA, but we need to get back to the kids."

"All right. Tell Daniel that Lizzy missed him."

"I'm sorry I didn't bring him, Rose, but I just don't think he would have understood. He didn't know Paul that well, and since Paul was so close in age to Lena, I was afraid it might upset him."

"I know. You're probably right. We brought Lizzy because Paul was her baby brother."

"Yeah. Poor little boy. He never had much of a chance to enjoy life. Does Lizzy know that you lost your other baby, too?"

"We haven't told her, but we will if she asks. She understands about Paul, but I don't if she could understand about miscarriage. She knows where babies come from, but only the basics. She's still so young."

Helga hugged her. "Take care of Jack and Lizzy, Rose. They need you."

"I will. You drive safely, okay? Watch out for drunk drivers. I would hate to see your children orphaned."

"We will, Rose. We've suddenly found ourselves being much more cautious on the road than before. What happened to your family brought home the dangers to us."

"That's good, at least." Rose walked them to the door, thanking them again for the food they had brought, and watched them leave, hoping that the next time she saw them, things would be happier.

Tommy and Sophie stayed for about an hour longer, during which time Jack gave Lizzy her dinner and got her settled down in front of the television with a movie. He talked with them for a while, but finally they, too, left and headed for home.

Mari was the last one to leave. She had babysat for Paul and Lizzy many times, and loved both children as though they really were her niece and nephew. She had wept for the lost child along with his parents, and had been trying to help them since, offering moral support, taking care of Lizzy so that Jack and Rose could have some time alone, and making sure that the family ate properly, since neither adult was in the mood to do much, and their injuries made things difficult anyway.

"I'm going to go home now," she told Jack and Rose, who were sitting at the table, picking at their food. "Are you going to be okay?"

"We'll be fine, Mari," Jack replied wearily. Mari meant well, but at the moment he wanted to be alone with his family.

"If you need anything, just call." She hugged Rose, looking at her barely touched dinner. "Eat."

"I am."

Mari gave her a disbelieving look, but didn't argue with her. Rose would take care of herself sooner or later, with or without Mari's nagging. She patted Jack's shoulder.

"Take care, you two. I'm going to say good-bye to Lizzy, and then go home."

Jack and Rose just nodded. When Mari left a few minutes later, Jack pushed his plate away and pulled his chair closer to Rose's, gathering her in his arms.

"I'm glad that's over. I like them all, but I think we need some time alone."

Rose put her head on his shoulder, hugging him back with her good arm. "I guess. It is getting late." Her eyes drooped shut as she leaned against him. "I'm so tired…"

"Why don't you go to bed? I'll clean up here and get Lizzy to bed. You go rest."

"Thanks, Jack." Rose stood up, glancing at her plate. "Why don't you put our plates in the refrigerator? We can eat that tomorrow. I'm too tired now."

"Sure." Jack got up, putting his arm around her waist. "I love you, Rose. Sleep well."

"I love you, too, Jack. It's hard to believe that things will ever get any better, but I guess they will someday."

"I hope so, Rose." He gave her a gentle kiss. "Good night."

"Good night, Jack. Don't be too long. You look awfully tired yourself."

"I'll be okay. I suppose we all will, eventually."


	103. Adjusting 2

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Three**

_Sunday, December 7, 2008  
Riverside, California_

A week had passed since Paul's funeral. Jack had gone back to work the day after, and Rose was planning to resume her work soon as well, wanting something to take her mind off the tragedy. Their bodies were healing from the trauma, but it would take much longer for their emotions to heal, too.

Life in the small apartment was unusually quiet and strained. In contrast to the usual conversation and laughter from the adults and childish antics from Lizzy, everyone was quiet, not knowing quite what to do or say. Lizzy played quietly, not trying to sing in imitation of her mother, and when she sat down to color, she used dark crayons and often drew stick figures of a mourning family and a baby going to heaven. She was more irritable, too, throwing tantrums over things she had long since learned she couldn't have, or simply refusing to do what she was told and then crying when her parents forced the issue.

Things were strained for Jack and Rose, too. Just after Paul had died, they had clung together, trying to comfort each other, but now neither was sure how to handle the other's grief, or how to express their own. Rose often awoke in tears after dreaming about the baby, and would fall apart when she found some object laying around the apartment that reminded her of Paul. Her body had to adjust, too—it was still producing milk to feed a baby that no longer existed, and it would be several weeks before it stopped.

Jack wanted to be there for his wife and daughter, but he was grieving, too, and didn't know quite what to say or do to help them. Rose, in turn, wanted to help him, but he had put on a stoic expression soon after the funeral and she didn't know how to break through the self-protective mask. She knew that he cried quietly at night after he thought she was asleep, but the one time she had reached out to him, he had stopped and pretended to be sleeping. He had boxed up Paul's belongings and put them in storage, but a few things remained to remind them of what had happened.

The tension was wearing on all of them, and things finally came to a head on Sunday afternoon, while Rose was in the kitchen making snacks while Lizzy picked out a movie to watch—the usual Sunday afternoon ritual.

Rose was rummaging through the refrigerator for ingredients for her homemade vegetable dip when she came across a baby bottle at the back. Though she had breast-fed Paul, there were times when she wasn't available to feed him, so she had pumped her milk and saved it for him so that whoever was taking care of him could feed him. A lone, forgotten bottle sat at the back, the contents long since spoiled.

With shaking hands, Rose removed the bottle, biting her lip as tears filled her eyes. How many times had she filled bottles with milk to make sure her baby had food? And now he was gone.

Jack turned from where he had been watching a bag of microwave popcorn slowly expand, hearing Rose's muffled sob. He saw her holding the bottle of spoiled milk, wiping away the tears that ran down her face.

Not knowing what else to do, he walked over and took the bottle from her, dumping the contents down the sink—and that was enough for Rose to blow up at him.

"What are you doing?" she shouted, snatching the empty bottle away from him. "I wasn't done with that!"

"Rose…it was a bottle of spoiled milk. What did you expect me to do?"

"I would have taken care of it! I know you can't keep spoiled milk around. But just grabbing it from me was uncalled for."

"I didn't just grab it from you."

"Yes, you did! You've been doing your best over the past week to erase every sign that Paul was ever here, and I'm sick of it! Did you ever stop to think about how I feel?"

"I thought about it all the time! What do you want me to do?"

"Stop trying to erase his existence!"

"I'm not! I put everything in storage, since we might have need of it in the future."

"Oh, no. No, no, no. Don't you dare say that we can replace him with another baby. We can't."

"I wasn't saying that."

"Yes, you were."

"Mommy? Daddy?" Lizzy stood in the dining area of the kitchen, looking worried. Her parents didn't usually fight like this.

They looked over at her, but instead of calming down, her presence only served to inflame them more.

"You see?" Rose shouted. "You're upsetting Lizzy!"

"I'm upsetting Lizzy? Who started this fight?"

"You did, when you took that bottle away from me!"

"You're the one who threw a tantrum over it!"

"Oh, so now I'm a child, am I? And you expect me to have another baby? Well, let me tell you something. I'm not having anymore babies. Not ever. I cannot—will not—go through that again. I lost two children in one night, and I don't ever want to lose another."

"Rose…" Jack's voice held a warning tone.

"Don't talk to me like that, Jack. You don't own me. I mean what I say. No more children, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"We'll see about that."

"And what are you going to do? Find another woman to bear them for you? That'll be the end for us, I can assure you. And don't think you can force me to have children against my will. If you lay one hand on me when I don't want you to, I will make you very, very sorry."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"The hell you don't! Get out of my sight. I don't want to be around you right now."

"Fine." Jack grabbed his coat from where it hung over a chair and headed for the door. "See you later."

Rose's mouth dropped open as he slammed the door. She hadn't actually expected him to walk out. Throwing open the door, she went after him.

"Jack, wait! I'm sorry!"

Jack just waved her off and kept going, heading for the car. Rose started after him again, but a little voice from the doorway stopped her.

"Mommy?"

Rose turned and went back to her daughter, picking her up. When she turned back toward the street, she saw Jack drive away with a screech of tires.

"Mommy, where's Daddy going?"

"I don't know, Lizzy."

"When will he be back?"

"I don't know that, either."


	104. Adjusting 3

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Four**

Rose stared at the street as Jack drove away, moving quickly through the city traffic. Her eyes filled with more tears as she watched him go, blurring her vision.

Lizzy brought her back to the present. "Mommy?"

Rose quickly wiped her eyes with her free hand. "Yes, Lizzy?"

"Can we go in? It's cold."

"Of course, sweetie." Setting the girl down, Rose took her hand and walked back toward the apartment door.

Once inside, though, she saw the bag of popcorn spilled on the table and the empty baby bottle lying on its side on the counter. Forgetting about maintaining her dignity in front of her daughter, Rose sank down against the wall, sobbing quietly.

Lizzy crawled into her lap and put her arms around her mother. "Don't cry, Mommy."

Rose hugged her back. "Thank you, Lizzy." She made a valiant effort to stop her tears, wondering at the irony of her little daughter comforting her, when before it had always been the other way around.

"Lizzy, what have I done?" she whispered brokenly, not expecting an answer.

Lizzy looked at her, and then, with childish honesty, replied, "You told Daddy you didn't want to be around him."

Rose choked on a sob. She had once said something similar to her infuriated mother, who had spanked her soundly for her impudence and sent her to her room. It was an incident she had never forgotten, for she had been five years old and believed that her mother really wanted an honest answer to her question.

She didn't spank Lizzy, though. Instead, she hugged her tighter, rocking her gently. Lizzy put her head on her mother's shoulder, patting her back comfortingly.

Rose had begun to calm when Lizzy gave her a worried look and asked, "Mommy, what if Daddy doesn't come back?"

Rose swallowed back renewed sobs. "He'll come back, Lizzy."

"But what if he's too mad at you?"

"Even if he's mad at me, he's not mad at you. He'll come back to see you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Lizzy. I'm sure."

"Baby Paul went away and didn't come back."

"That was different, Lizzy. He died."

"What if Daddy dies?"

Rose squeezed her eyes shut at the thought. "He won't, Lizzy. Not for a long, long time."

Lizzy considered this. "What if you die, Mommy?"

Rose hugged her. "I won't die for a long time, either, Lizzy."

"Would you be sad if I died?"

"Oh, Lizzy, of course I would. Your Daddy and I would miss you so much…"

"Would you fight about me if I died?"

"I don't know, Lizzy. We'd both be very sad."

"I don't like it when you and Daddy fight."

"But we don't do it very often, Lizzy. We just…got mad at each other today."

"Mommy…"

"Lizzy, why don't we go watch the movie you picked out? We'll have some popcorn and…" She glanced around the kitchen, realizing that she had never gotten around to making her vegetable dip. "…some ice cream. What do you say?"

Lizzy brightened at the thought of an extra helping of ice cream. "Okay, Mommy." She got out of her mother's lap, reaching for the bag of popcorn on the table and picking up the spilled pieces. As Rose slowly got up, she looked at her and hugged her legs.

"Don't be sad, Mommy. Daddy's gonna come back, and Baby Paul is with Jesus and Great-Grandpa."

Rose swallowed hard, giving her little girl a tentative smile as she got the ice cream from the freezer.

*****

Hours later, Rose tucked her tired, sad daughter into bed, singing her the bedtime song that had been hers since she was an infant and reading her a short bedtime story. Lizzy only half-listened, wanting to know why her daddy wasn't back yet. Rose assured her that he would be there in the morning before pulling the covers up to the child's chin. Lizzy was still worried, but her tiredness overcame her worries as her mother sat beside her, rubbing her back gently through the layers of blankets and whispering that everything would be okay.

When Lizzy had finally fallen asleep, Rose left her room quietly, going back out to the living room and curling up on the couch. The television was on, but she paid no attention to the inane sitcom with the canned laughter. She, too, was worried, though she had tried not to let Lizzy know it.

Rose had been upset all afternoon. Even when they were watching the movie Lizzy had chosen, _The Lion King_, she had brooded, crying occasionally at the movie, though never had before. She had managed to hide her tears from Lizzy in the darkened living room, though the child had looked at her with worry when she had sniffed hard.

Later, at dinner, Rose had only picked at her food, allowing Lizzy to take what she wanted of the uneaten portions. The little girl had been so tired that she hadn't asked about her usual Sunday after-dinner treat of ice cream, and had stubbornly forced herself to stay awake long enough play a game of Candyland and take a bath. By then, she had been wired, and it had taken considerable patience and soothing on Rose's part to get her to go to sleep.

Now, Rose lay curled up on the couch, the television droning in the background. It didn't interest her, but instead of taking the time to turn it off, she just tuned it out, lost in her own thoughts.

Where was Jack? She had been serious when she had told Lizzy that he would come back, but that had been hours ago. She had reasoned that he might have gone for a long drive to cool his temper, maybe stopped somewhere for dinner, but it was nearly nine o'clock now, and he had left around two. Even if he had decided to stay someplace else for the night, he should have called to let her know where he was. Even if he was still upset with her, he would have wanted to reassure Lizzy.

On impulse, Rose got off the couch and picked up the phone, wondering if it was working. The dial tone told her that there was indeed phone service, but it only served to make her more worried. Why hadn't he called?

After a moment's thought, Rose dialed Jack's cell phone number—only to hear the phone ring from the bookshelf. He'd forgotten it.

She took her own cell phone from her purse, checking to see if it was working. When she found that it was, she checked for missed calls, but there were none.

Rose sank back down onto the couch, more worried than ever. Payphones were harder to find than they used to be, but they did still exist. Even if he didn't have change for a call, he could have called collect.

_Jack, where are you?_ Rose turned off the television and went to the window, looking down at the street below. Several vehicles passed by, and one turned into the parking garage of their apartment complex, but it wasn't Jack's car.

Her face set in worried lines, Rose went back to the couch, curling up again with her head against the arm. _Where are you, Jack? Why haven't you come home yet?_

A thousand scenarios went through her mind, each worse than before. He was stranded in an isolated area. He was off drinking in some bar. He'd found another woman. There'd been another car accident, and he was lying in the hospital somewhere, or worse, the morgue. He'd decided not to come back.

Rose got up, pacing back and forth in worry. _Jack, where are you? Please come back. Please come home. I shouldn't have screamed at you and said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Things have been so tense…it just came out. I didn't mean any of it._

_Please, Jack, come home._


	105. Adjusting 4

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Five**

Jack drove swiftly through the city traffic and rain-slicked streets, not paying much attention to where he was going. People honked at him and slammed on their brakes as he cut them off, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered at the moment.

The fight with Rose replayed itself through his mind over and over. Why had they blown up at each other like that? Maybe he shouldn't have taken the bottle from her, but he had only been trying to help.

It had been inevitable that things would come to a head, though. It had been only one in a long line of bad days, with the whole family upset and grieving, not knowing how to express it or how to comfort each other. They had all been under a lot of stress, and had been trying to carry on with everyday things without much success. He and Rose couldn't seem to talk to each other about what had happened, and Lizzy reacted to the tragedy and to the continuing strain as many four-year-olds would—by misbehaving, which only made things worse.

Jack sighed inwardly, trying to put the fight and the tension of the past week out of his mind. He needed to get away from all of that for a while, to have some time to himself—but so far he didn't seem to be succeeding. He couldn't leave his thoughts behind, and he couldn't be alone in the teeming city.

Looking out at the rainy afternoon, Jack turned at the next corner, heading out of town. He needed to find some place to be alone.

When he reached the freeway, he sped up, pushing the car to well in excess of the speed limit. People stared, some of them honking their horns as he went by, but he ignored them. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't really care. He was going too fast, and he knew it—but somehow, it didn't seem to matter. Why should he care if he crashed the family's remaining car, possibly injuring or killing himself in the process? He just didn't care.

But someone else did. Jack saw the flashing lights in his rearview mirror before he heard the siren. Finally slowing down, he pulled over to the side of the road, resting his hands on the steering wheel as a Highway Patrol officer walked up to the window. Sighing, he rolled it down and looked at the man, who was glaring at him and wiping cascades of rainwater from his face.

Jack didn't say anything, but just looked at the officer, knowing that he was in trouble and that he well and truly deserved it.

"License and registration, please." After Jack handed them to him, he leaned down and looked him straight in the eye. "Did you know you were going one hundred in a sixty-five zone, and in the rain, no less?" the officer demanded.

Jack just shrugged. He knew, but he wasn't in the mood to explain himself right now.

The officer sighed, irritated at Jack's lack of response. Most people argued, or made excuses, but Jack just sat there, looking sullen. The officer quickly wrote him a ticket and handed it to him. "Slow down," he warned Jack, looking at him seriously. "There's worse things than a traffic ticket."

Jack tossed the ticket into the glove compartment, then leaned his head back against the headrest, rubbing his temples. He knew damned well that he had been driving unsafely, but that didn't make him any happier. He started the car again, pulling back into traffic.

A ticket would be just another thing for Rose to scream about, he thought, moving up an off ramp. Then he corrected himself. Rose really didn't scream about things all that much; this afternoon had been unusual, and the result of too much tension on the part of both of them.

Jack kept driving, trying to put the thoughts out of his head. He wanted to go somewhere where he could be alone to think—and he needed to get there safely, without another traffic ticket, or worse.

*****

Jack finally stopped at Lake Hemet, the same place where he had taken Rose the day after they were married five years earlier. There were few people around now, with a light snow falling and evening fast approaching. One or two hardy individuals were to be found near the lake, fishing or walking, but aside from that he was alone.

Zipping up his coat, Jack got out of the car and began to walk, avoiding the lake at first and heading down the deserted dirt road, his hands thrust deep into his pockets to protect them from the cold. When he judged that he had gone far enough that even the few visitors who could tolerate the cold and darkness were far away, he climbed carefully down to the shore, sitting on a granite boulder and curling up against the cold.

In was not unlike the place he had gone to be by himself in Masline, except that here it was much colder, and the ice-edged lake stretched before him, reflecting the last of the sunset light. But Masline was far away and long ago, another time, and he doubted that the place he had once gone to even existed anymore; most likely, it had long ago been bulldozed and covered with the identical tracts of houses that Rose so detested.

Pulling his knees up to his chin, Jack wrapped his arms around his legs and stared out at the lake, his thoughts far away. He was still angry with Rose for blowing up at him, but he had to admit that he was partly to blame, too. He had known how the sight of things that had once belonged to Paul upset her—in truth, they upset him, too, which was why he had had everything put into storage.

He didn't like seeing Rose cry, which was her reaction every time she was reminded of their son. He knew, as well, that she often awoke crying from nightmares about the accident—but he didn't know how to comfort her. He wanted to; her grieving sobs tore at his heart when he heard her, but her sorrow was almost his undoing, and he wanted to be stoic and put the incident in the past. It wouldn't work, and he knew it, but emotions and logic didn't always go together.

Jack brushed the snow from his head, looking out across the lake. It was completely dark now, and there were no stars or moon to light things, nor nearby city lights visible. The darkness and stillness was complete, except for the occasional sound of a vehicle passing on the highway about a mile away and the rustling of the wind through the bare brush and pine branches.

What would have happened if he hadn't taken the bottle from her, he wondered, or if she hadn't blown up at him over it? Would they have finally been able to sit down and talk about what had happened, be a comfort to each other, or would they have pulled away again, uncomfortable with the situation, pretending that nothing had happened—until things had another chance to blow out of proportion?

He didn't know, but he was sorry for the words they had exchanged, for the way they had pulled their worried daughter into the fight. He couldn't blame it entirely upon Rose; he, too, had used Lizzy in their argument. It wasn't fair to the child to be caught in the middle that way. She hadn't done anything wrong, and had been better behaved than usual.

He and Rose had both been wrong. He admitted that to himself. At first, he had been so angry that he had blamed the whole fight upon her, but that wasn't true. Now that he had had time to think about it, he realized why they had gotten so upset with each other, and that they had both been wrong. They needed to talk about things, to try to understand each other.

He couldn't help but remember Rose's angry words about replacing Paul with another baby. She was right that they couldn't replace him, and he hadn't been suggesting it—but did she really not want more children? He hadn't been thinking of it right away, of course—Rose had just suffered a miscarriage, and needed time to heal, if nothing else. And he didn't think that another child right away would be a good idea, but maybe in a year or two…if Rose was willing to have more children. She didn't want to go through the experience of losing a child again, at any age—although it could still happen, since they still had Lizzy. He felt a cold chill go down his spine at the thought. Lizzy was as precious to him as Paul had been; he had loved them both equally.

Jack sat up, wondering how late it was and how long he had been sitting there. The cold had penetrated his warm coat and shoes; his toes felt as though they were freezing off. It was time to go—but he wasn't sure that he was ready to face Rose yet. Would she be relieved to see him back, or angry, after the way he had walked out on her earlier?

There was no use in worrying about it. He had to go back, if only because Lizzy would be upset if he didn't. And he wanted to talk to Rose, try to make up and work out the misunderstanding. Rose might welcome him, or she might be angry, but there was only one way to find out.

Standing carefully, he rubbed his eyes, then frowned, carefully scraping away the tears that had frozen to his cheeks, and was glad that no one had been there to see him.

Climbing down from the boulder, he made his way slowly up the steep, sloping bank, heading for home.


	106. Adjusting 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Six

Jack quietly unlocked the front door and slipped in, seeing that the lights were still on. Closing the door behind him, he looked around, seeing Rose curled up on the couch asleep, her face tear-streaked.

Putting the keys in his pocket, Jack walked over to her, sitting down beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Rose," he whispered. "Rose, wake up."

She opened her eyes slowly, then sat up, throwing her arms around him. "Jack! I was getting so worried!"

He held her close. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I kept worrying that something had happened to you."

"I'm okay. I just got a speeding ticket, is all."

"A speeding ticket! Jack, how fast were you going?"

He hesitated. "About a hundred miles an hour in a sixty-five zone."

"And in the rain? Jack, don't do that. You could get into an accident…"

"I know. That's what the Highway Patrolman warned me about…that there are worse things than tickets. He thought I should slow down, too."

"Jack, please be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you." The last word ended with a sob.

Jack held his crying wife close. "I slowed down after that. I was just…I don't know. Being reckless, I guess."

Rose moved to sit beside him, laying her head on his shoulder. "Jack…about what happened earlier…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those awful things to you."

"I'm sorry, too, Rose. I didn't mean to upset you by taking that bottle out of your hand. I was trying to help."

"I know. It's just…everything has been so tense. I blew it all out of proportion."

"I'm not trying to make us forget him, Rose. Really I'm not. Paul was our son…a part of our lives. We won't ever forget him. I've been trying to make things easier, sort of, but I guess it just made things worse."

Rose hugged him. "I know. And there really isn't any sense in keeping everything like he was about to use it. It's…it's hard to see everything go, though. All those things that reminded us of him…"

"I can bring them back, if you want."

Rose shook her head. "No…there's no point in it, and it would only confuse Lizzy. We have…a few small things that were his, to remember him by, and we have pictures. We won't forget him. I'm just having trouble letting him go."

"So am I, Rose. It's hard to let someone you love go…especially when you know you'll never see them again."

She nodded. "And…Jack, I wish we could talk about what happened, like we did right afterwards. It helps to talk about things sometimes, and I know that you miss him, too."

"I've been keeping you up at night, haven't I?"

"Yes," Rose admitted, "but it was easier than sleeping and dreaming about him and the accident. I tried reaching out to you once…"

"I've been trying to be strong, to be stoic…like it'll go away if I don't think about it. It doesn't work, though."

"No, it doesn't. But you've got a lot of pride…even though we've been through so much together." She pulled his head down to her shoulder. "Jack, let's try to be more open with each other. It's always helped before."

"Sure." Jack sighed tiredly. "I'll try."

The couple sat together for several minutes, not saying anything, but only holding each other close. Then a little voice broke the silence.

"Daddy? Mommy?"

They looked up as Lizzy came into the living room, clutching her Barbie doll. Jack took one arm from around Rose, inviting Lizzy to sit in his lap.

"Daddy, I was scared you wasn't gonna come home."

"I'm here now, Lizzy. I just wanted to be by myself for a while."

Rose put an arm around her daughter and looked up at Jack. "Where did you go?"

"Up to Lake Hemet. It was so cold and dark, and snowy, that there weren't many people there. I went for a walk and sat and thought about things for a while."

"Quite a while. It's almost ten o'clock."

"Yeah…well…I wasn't really paying attention to the time, and it's a long drive. I stopped to get something to eat and tried to call, but I think I lost my cell phone up there. I'm home now, though."

"Your phone is on the bookcase over there. You forgot it." Rose hugged him. "I'm just glad you're home."

Lizzy interrupted her. "Are you and Mommy still mad?" Lizzy looked from one to the other, clearly worried.

Rose hugged her. "No, Lizzy. Not anymore. We made up."

"I don't like it when you fight."

"We don't like it, either, Lizzy." Jack pulled both Rose and Lizzy into his embrace.

Lizzy snuggled into the arms of both of her parents, her eyes drooping sleepily. A few minutes later, Rose stood carefully, carrying the sleeping child toward her room. Jack walked with her, stroking the little girl's head with his good hand, the other arm at Rose's back.

Lizzy opened her eyes briefly as her mother laid her on the bed and pulled up the covers, but she closed them again when Jack sat down beside her, rubbing her shoulders. She fell asleep again, feeling safe in her father's presence.

When Lizzy was asleep, Jack and Rose quietly left her room, leaving the door ajar. Walking into their own room, they sat down on the end of the bed, embracing again. Jack stroked Rose's hair, pulling her close.

"I'm sorry I walked out on you," he told her, resting his forehead against hers as she looked up at him.

"It's all right, Jack. I think you needed some time to yourself. I'm not angry…not anymore."

"I'll try to be more open with you. Just…bear with me, okay? This is hard for all of us."

"I know." Rose sighed, pulling him closer. "It's hard—really hard—but we'll get through this somehow."

"Yes, somehow." He kissed her gently, putting a hand to her face. "I love you, Rose."

"I love you, too, Jack." Rose wiped the tears from her eyes. "Whatever happens, we'll get through this together."


	107. Going Home 1

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Seven**

_February 8, 2009  
San Bernardino, CA_

"I'm sure that most of you have already guessed why you've been called here today." The regional manager of Vandekar Publishing stood before the assembled employees. "We've tried not to let this leak to the press, but some people just couldn't keep their mouths shut."

Jack sighed inwardly, leaning back in the hard plastic chair. He knew exactly why they had called this meeting. The CEO of Vandekar Publishing, Mark Anderson, had been caught embezzling from the company. Further investigation had revealed widespread accounting errors, most of them deliberate, and most of them encouraged by Anderson. Anderson himself had been summarily fired, but not before he had cashed in his stock options and placed the money in an overseas account, making off with fifty million dollars and sending the company's stock plummeting.

Each employee had been given forty shares when the company had begun offering stock, and some had bought more, but it was nearly worthless now. He would be surprised if the corporation didn't go bankrupt.

The public relations employees had done a good job of keeping the scandal out of the news, until one of them, knowing that layoffs were imminent and knowing that he would soon be out of a job, had sent copies of the accounting records and his own statement to the New York Times, and it wasn't long before every newspaper and news service in the country picked it up.

The whistle blower had been found dead a few days later, an apparent suicide, though some people were not so sure, and there was an investigation into what had happened. Not surprisingly, when he had told Rose about what was going on, she had immediately begun to investigate, drawing on her sources—her friends in strange places, as she called them. All of the information she had uncovered had been sent to the FBI—which had begun investigating after the public relations employee was found dead—and to the news services.

At first, no one had objected to her investigation, but after she had written and recorded a song satirizing the scandal, an anonymous gunman had taken a shot at her one night as she left a nightclub in Temecula. No one had been hurt, but the shooter had not been apprehended, and Rose had grown ever more cautious, afraid that it would happen again.

Now, some seven weeks after the scandal had come to light, the management was finally announcing what the future would hold for the corporation and the employees. Jack already knew that it wasn't going to be good, but he didn't know just how bad things might be.

The manager cleared her throat, obviously not looking forward to what she had to say. "I know that rumors have been flying over this incident, but I can assure you that most of them are not true. There was no foul play involved in the death of Gus Faro, the public relations employee who reported the incident to the New York Times. Mark Anderson has not fled the country, and is not being investigated by the FBI. In addition, Vandekar Publishing had no part in the attempted shooting of singer Rose Dawson."

Jack snorted rudely. He begged to differ with all four denials. Being married to Rose, he had access to information that the regional manager either didn't have or was trying to cover up. He settled back in his chair, pasting an innocent look on his face as the manager looked to see who had interrupted her.

Finally giving up, she looked at her notes and spoke into the microphone again. "It is true, however, that the company is bankrupt. Our actual profits were much lower than reported, and when the stock dropped, it presented a financial catastrophe for Vandekar Publishing. What was left was bought out by White Star Publishers, Inc., providing just enough money to cover the debts and pay off the top management. Each of you will find a pink slip in your mailbox when you leave this meeting, and I regret to inform you that there will be no severance pay. That is all."

As the manager hurried from the room, an angry murmur went up amongst the assembled employees. Vandekar Publishing bought up by another company—what was left of it, anyway? Everyone laid off? No severance pay, and the company stock worthless? Some people had invested heavily in Vandekar Publishing and had lost everything. It would be especially hard on those nearing retirement, who suddenly found their investments worthless and themselves unemployed.

Jack stood up angrily and headed for the door. It was like Rose had said—the same story repeated over and over again, of some shady CEO manipulating the books to his own benefit, and then leaving the company in a shambles and the employees without jobs. She had known well enough how such things happened—her ex-fiancé had been one of those dishonest CEO's, although Titan Construction had been fortunate in that he had been convicted and imprisoned for another crime before his manipulations could destroy the company.

Jack stalked to his mailbox and collected its contents, then headed for his desk to clean it out. He had been an assistant manager in the San Bernardino office for several years, but apparently he didn't rank high enough to be paid off. It wasn't that he thought himself anymore deserving than his co-workers, but the Dawsons had little money left in their savings after paying for Paul's funeral in December. He had hoped that his job would last a while longer—at least long enough to save a little money and send out his résumé, but it hadn't happened.

To make matters worse, there was no severance pay, so he had only the little bit that he had made in the past week, and the benefits that had come with the job had been cut off when White Star Publishers had purchased Vandekar Publishing. He was just grateful that the family was still okay in that regard—Rose qualified for health insurance through her membership in the Screen Actors' Guild, and would continue to do so as long as she maintained that membership.

He might be lucky enough to find another job quickly, but he doubted it. The recession that had begun the year before was only growing worse—it was the worst economic decline since the Great Depression, something Jack had barely paid attention to in history class, though now he wished he knew more. Jobs were difficult to find, with more disappearing every day. Rose still worked, but the number of singing engagements she had booked had grown smaller since the shooting incident, and the independent film company she had been working for was foundering, its last film a dismal failure in the art houses.

It didn't take him long to pile his belongings into a cardboard box. Lifting the box, which contained a handful of things he had kept in his desk, a couple of family photographs, and a plaque he had been given just a few months earlier when he had been employee of the month, he walked slowly from the building, wondering what he was going to do now.


	108. Going Home 2

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Eight**

Jack pulled into the parking garage of the apartment building and stepped from the car. A quick glance told him that Rose was home. The used hybrid they had bought with the insurance money from the wrecked car sat in its usual space beside his, the improbable orange paint added by the last owner and the roses he had painted on it to cover some scratched spots impossible to miss. One of Lizzy's preschool friends had dubbed it the Rosemobile, and the name had stuck.

He grimaced at the thought. Unless he managed to find another job quickly—or Rose's career prospects picked up soon—Lizzy would have to leave preschool. The tuition was too high to afford on what little money they had saved, and due to the fact that he tutored a few hours a week at his university, he wasn't technically unemployed and thus did not qualify for unemployment benefits.

It wasn't so much a question of educating her—Lizzy was only four years old, but very bright and curious, and both of her parents were well-educated and more than capable of teaching her anything she needed to know—but the child enjoyed going to preschool three mornings a week, and would be very disappointed if she had to stop. Disappointment was a part of life, but it didn't seem fair to pull the little girl from an activity she enjoyed so much.

It would only be seven months before Lizzy was ready for kindergarten and the local public school, but he hated the idea of interrupting her education and social development. She had friends that she played with sometimes, and Mari was almost always willing to take her for a few hours, but he remembered being removed from the school he was used to on more than one occasion as a teenager and unceremoniously placed in another—and how hard it had been to adjust at times. If it had been difficult for him as a teenager, how much harder might it be for a four-year-old?

Picking up the box of things he had taken home from work, Jack climbed the stairs toward his apartment, digging through his pocket for the keys. It wasn't as if they didn't already have enough trouble in their lives to cope with—it had been only a little over two months since the traumatic car accident and Paul's death. The last thing they needed was the stress of financial hardship.

Jack unlocked the apartment door, ignoring the twinge in his arm. He'd only had the cast removed the week before and was still regaining his strength. Flexing his arm, he hoped that he would regain his strength soon. He might need to take any kind of job available to get by, and a weak arm would be a liability.

Rose heard the door open and turned to greet him from where she had been sitting at the computer, composing a new tune. "Jack, you're home. How did the meeting go?"

He sighed, setting down the box and going to stand beside her. "Terrible. I suspected as much, especially since they called this meeting on a Saturday, but it was worse than I'd thought."

"What happened?" Rose got up, her long, full skirt swirling around her. They sat down on the couch, Jack resting his head back against the back. "What kind of bullshit did they pull this time?"

"The company is bankrupt, courtesy of that damned CEO who skimmed money for himself and caused the stock to drop. What remained was sold to White Star Publishers for a pittance, and everyone who worked for Vandekar is out of a job." He sighed, taking Rose's hand. "What's worse, they chose to pay off the top management, leaving nothing for anyone else. No severance pay—nothing at all."

Rose was silent for a moment, taking in the news. "Do you think you might have been denied severance pay because of the time you had to take off to be in court to testify against that drunk driver?"

Jack sighed, shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. If they did, then they used me as a reason to deny it to all the assistant managers. I talked to some of the others on my way out, and they were denied severance pay, too."

Rose rested her chin on her fist, thinking. "Well…we'll make do somehow. You've got a college degree, which might help you find another job, maybe with a more ethical company…"

"Maybe. Or, on the other hand, it might do more harm than good. You know how a lot of employers are—if you have the necessary knowledge and experience for a job, they don't want you, because then they'd have to pay you what you're worth. They call it being overqualified."

"I know." Rose leaned her head back beside his. "I ran into that argument more than once when I first went looking for a job after breaking things off with Cal. It's ridiculous and utterly frustrating—and then the people in charge wonder why things don't get done as well as they would like. I did eventually find something, though—you can't give up before you've even tried."

"I know, and I don't intend to. But…do you think that the upper management at Vandekar ever thought about they were hurting by their actions? I would like to think that at least some of them had a conscience."

"Maybe. But if they did, they either didn't think about it too hard, or were voted down. Nine times out of ten, greed wins—at least until it works itself into a corner, and then everything collapses. It's the same old story time and time again."

"I just wish these people would think first."

"They do—but usually about themselves. Everyone else comes last, if at all." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand thoughtfully. "You know, Jack, it could be worse. You could be one of those near to retirement who lost everything, or one of those for whom their job is their life, or money is what matters more than anything to them. Whatever happens, we'll survive. You know what my philosophy on this is—a little this and that will keep us going quite well."

"Yeah. That's true, but…you know, when I was eighteen, nineteen years old, something like this would hardly have bothered me. It would have been nothing more than an opportunity to try something new, go somewhere else. Back then, I didn't mind living as a vagabond, living hand to mouth and not knowing where my next meal was coming from. It got uncomfortable sometimes, sure, but it was all a part of the adventure. I could still do it if I had to, and so could you." He looked at her, a half-smile lighting his eyes. "I do believe, Rose, that you would find it an adventure, too."

Rose grinned at him, leaning back beside him. "I think I would, too. To go around singing for my supper—that would be an adventure."

"It would be, but I don't think it would be half as much fun for Lizzy. She's too little to do most kinds of work, or to be left to her own devices for long. I've seen kids in that kind of situation—homeless kids, migrant workers' kids—it was all too often a hard life for them. Some thrived, sure, but others didn't do as well. I don't want to pull Lizzy into a life like that unless I have to. Being a parent changes how you think."

Rose sighed. "You're right, of course, about Lizzy—and I'm not too eager to be a migrant worker, or a homeless mother. Not many people are. Usually, that's what you do because you have to. Besides, I think I find more than my share of adventure right here."

"Like getting shot at because someone didn't like the lyrics to your song."

"We don't know for sure that's why it happened."

"It is. I'm sure of it. That sort of thing never happened before you started in on Vandekar."

Rose gave him a disbelieving look. "I guess you don't remember how many times I've gotten into trouble over my politics and my big mouth."

"Not that kind of trouble. People got mad, but no one ever tried to kill you over it before."

"I think that's why I've been getting fewer singing engagements—I might attract unsavory elements."

Jack couldn't help but laugh at the picture that brought to mind. "True—you might attract embezzling CEO's and bad-tempered managers. What is the world coming to?"

Rose laughed, too. "They're not my usual crowd, anyway—how many of them are interested in social and political activism like I sing about?"

"Not many." Jack sobered, pulling her close. "We'll make do, I'm sure—I've never yet seen it so bad that nothing could be done—but it may be tight for a while. We probably won't be able to keep Lizzy in preschool, and we'll have to find another apartment—this one is too expensive."

"Mari is looking for roommates. She's been living in a two-bedroom apartment in Perris, by herself—and the rent is hard to keep up with on what she makes working for the EPA. We could ask her about it."

"I've heard some bad things about Perris."

"It isn't that bad, Jack. I've been there. It doesn't deserve its reputation that I can see. It's no better and no worse than Riverside—just a lot smaller, and less expensive. Besides, it's something of an adventure, right? And Lizzy adores Mari, it's within a few miles' drive of everywhere, and we'd be as likely to find jobs living there as anywhere." At Jack's surprised look, she went on. "Yes, I'm going to try to find a steady job. I love singing—but it won't support us, at least not now, and we do have Lizzy to think about. I'll keep singing on the side, but until things are stable for us again—whenever that might be—or until I get my big break, as it were, I think I need to look for steady work, preferably in music or politics, but if not…well…I'm multi-talented. So are you." She turned to him, putting her arms around him. "Things will work out, Jack. I know they will."


	109. Going Home 3

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Nine**

_March 1, 2009  
Riverside, California_

"Mommy? Are we really gonna move in with Aunt Mari?" Lizzy tagged after Rose as she carried a box packed with the child's belongings down to the hybrid.

"Yes, Lizzy. I've already told you that."

"I know, but I was making sure." Lizzy paused. "Mommy, why doesn't Aunt Mari come to live with us? She could sleep in my room!"

"It's too expensive, Busy-Lizzy. That's why we're moving in with her."

"Because Daddy doesn't have a job and we can't live on your singing." Lizzy quoted what she'd heard her parents say.

"Right, Lizzy. And Aunt Mari's apartment is too expensive for her by herself, but your Daddy and I will help pay for it."

Rose put the box in the car, then took Lizzy's hand and headed back up the stairs. They had stayed in their apartment through February, since the rent was already paid for the month, but had decided to leave before the landlord could evict them for not paying their rent in the following months. Mari had been more than happy to have them for roommates, and had even offered to share her own bedroom with Lizzy, giving Jack and Rose a room of their own.

Jack had still not succeeded in finding another steady job. He had immediately signed up with several temp agencies following being laid off, but the work was sporadic and low-paying at best. It helped, and he admitted to enjoying some of the work, but it wasn't enough to keep a roof over their heads. He had managed to sell some of his artwork, as well, but his best pieces, paintings of Rose that he had made every June since they had been married, he refused to part with.

Rose had been relieved to find that once the scandal with Vandekar Publishing was over, she was able to get more singing engagements. Apparently she had not been the only one to connect the shooting incident with Vandekar, and with the company bought out by White Star Publishers in New York, there was no longer any danger to her. She had managed to book singing engagements every Friday and Saturday night for the next two months, and if the work remained steady, it would be enough to cover the Dawsons' share of the rent and food in their new home. It was by no means a sure source of income, though, so she still sought a steady job.

Lizzy had not been as upset as they had feared at leaving preschool. She had enjoyed getting to go to school and see her friends three mornings a week, but the thought of moving in with her beloved Aunt Mari had smoothed over her disappointment at having to leave. The little girl idolized her mother's former college roommate, wanting to be like her in every way. This sometimes worried Rose, as Mari's interest in herbal medicine had not waned, and she was more than happy to teach Lizzy everything she knew. Rose knew that Mari's competence had greatly increased since the Jimsonweed incident so many years before, but she wasn't sure that Lizzy's four-year-old mind could fully comprehend what Mari was teaching her.

Jack met them at the door, carrying a cardboard box containing the last of his and Rose's belongings. "Are you about ready?" he asked Rose, holding the box tightly with his stronger arm.

"Almost. I just want to make sure we haven't forgotten anything." She looked in the door. "At least we don't have to worry about moving the furniture. Thank goodness for furnished apartments."

"Who do you want to ride with, Lizzy?" Jack asked his daughter, leaning down to her. "Me or Mommy?"

"Mommy's got my car seat."

"Do you want to go with her, or do you want me to get it for you?"

Lizzy considered this for a moment. "Mommy, is it okay if I go with Daddy?"

"Sure, Lizzy. We're all going to the same place."

"Okay, Daddy. I'll go with you." She turned around suddenly, hugging Rose. "Don't be sad, Mommy. We're gonna move in with Aunt Mari."

"I know, sweetie. You're going to share a room with her."

"I am?" Lizzy's face lit up. "I'm glad Daddy doesn't have a job. We're gonna live with Aunt Mari!"

Rose laughed, watching the child jump around excitedly. Lizzy's enthusiasm was contagious, smothering the lingering sad feelings the adults had about leaving their apartment and having a roommate again.

Jack hefted the box, nodding to his daughter. "Come on, Busy-Lizzy. Let's go give the keys back to the landlord." He paused a moment, giving Rose a quick kiss. "See you there, love. Remember, it won't be forever."

"I know." Rose hugged him, box and all. "Roommates again…it'll be like old times." She stepped back, going inside the apartment. "I should be along in about an hour. Take care out there."

"I will." He turned towards the stairs. "Come on, Busy-Lizzy."

Rose watched them go, Lizzy skipping along happily. Sighing a little, she went inside to make sure they had left nothing behind before going to their new home.


	110. Going Home 4

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Ten**

_April 10, 2009_

"I hate those sons of bitches! May they all burn in hell!"

Everyone looked up as Rose stalked into the room, throwing her clear plastic work purse on the couch and throwing herself down beside it.

Finally, Jack approached her cautiously. "What's wrong, Rose? What happened?"

Rose just pulled everything from the purse and tossed it on the coffee table, throwing the piece of plastic aside. "Good riddance," she mumbled, glaring at the hated object.

In the two months since Jack had lost his job, he and Rose had both looked diligently for work. Rose had continued to sing, but it just wasn't enough to support the family on, and the little Jack made tutoring at the university helped only a little. Jack himself had tried to use his art to supplement their income, but he wasn't well-known, and, while he had managed to sell some pieces locally and on the Internet, it just wasn't enough to keep food in their stomachs and a roof over their heads. Steady work had to be found.

In desperation, Jack had reduced the number of classes he took when the new quarter started and applied for fee waivers. He wished that he could quit tutoring, as his boss was extremely difficult to get along with, making what would otherwise have been a pleasant job a nightmare, but even the little he brought in from that job was needed.

Rose wasn't a student, which reduced their costs, but also precluded her from looking for a work study job like Jack had. It was just as well, since work study paid poorly and was never more than part-time, but the full-time job that she managed to find shortly after arriving in Perris was worse than Jack's. Within two weeks of moving in with Mari, Rose found herself hired by Mari's old nemesis, Starcrest of California, a place that, like Sunpeak, was known for its substandard wages, poor working conditions, mistreatment of employees, and labor violations.

It came as no surprise to anyone, especially not Mari, when Rose quickly became disenchanted with her job. Her position as a full-time data entry operator was dull and physically taxing, with working time often lasting eleven hours. From the start, she had been distrustful of her new employer, but after having to work eleven hours when she had been promised that it would only be eight, she had become more than distrustful—the company had become another of her crusades, one which Mari knew she wouldn't win. Starcrest was a bad place, and nothing ever seemed to change—except for getting worse.

Mari had warned her, but it hadn't deterred Rose in the slightest. No cause was too far gone for her to apply herself to, and her goal quickly became to unionize Starcrest. She discussed the idea with her co-workers, asked Mari for advice—which always turned out to be advice to stop what she was doing—and worked on her cause in her spare time. Mari told her over and over that it wasn't a good idea—it would only get her in trouble—but once Rose got an idea in her head, it was virtually impossible to make her let go of it.

Which had led to the trouble at hand.

"What did you do?" Mari asked. "Quit?"

"No. They fired me."

"They fired you? What did you do? They hardly ever fired anyone when I was there. It was too hard to replace people."

"In this economy, workers are a dime a dozen. They'll have no trouble replacing me." She sighed. "I tried to unionize the place. They say that they don't want unions because they'll disrupt communication between employees and upper management."

"What communication?" Jack and Mari asked in unison, then laughed.

"My point exactly. There is none. And all the time, the workers have to deal with low wages, substandard working conditions, and equipment that was old when I was born—and I'm not exactly a kid."

"No way!" Mari stared at her. "Are they still using those 1975 computers?"

"Yes. And their management style is even more obsolete—it's early twentieth century sweatshop. Not that that management style has ever really been out of fashion."

"So, you finally found a battle you couldn't win." Mari pushed Rose's belongings into a pile on the table.

"I don't know that I've ever won a battle. What good has my campaigning done, anyway?"

"Plenty of good," Mari assured her. "You keep things in the public view, so they don't forget about it."

"They'll be quick enough to forget at Starcrest."

"That's because hardly anyone stays at Starcrest for long. You lasted a month, which was about standard when I was there."

"Things haven't changed. I guess it is kind of hard to organize when no one stays put."

"I just wonder how that company keeps going. Their mailings are trash, they've barely figured out the Internet, and they treat their customers as badly as they do their employees."

"Maybe I don't need to damn them to hell. Maybe that's where their success comes from."

Mari stared at her, then laughed appreciatively. "You sound like me. That's what I always said to my parents."

"What did they say?"

"My dad said they were assholes, and my mom told me to be grateful I had a job."

"Were you grateful?"

"For about the first five minutes. Then I was ready to quit. I did quit, when I graduated high school and got a scholarship to Elias University. Who needs Starcrest when you have college?"

"I have seven college degrees, and I still got stuck there."

"True." Mari paused. "Are you sorry to leave?"

Rose shrugged. "Not really. My pride is a little bruised, and now I'll have to find another job, but aside from that—I don't care." She turned to Jack, changing the subject. "How was your day?"

"Better than yours—a little bit better, anyway. I went to work, and then went to class. Everything was fine until my boss first stood around praising someone, then abruptly turned on me and screamed that I couldn't do anything right. If I didn't need the money, I would be out of there so fast…"

"Have you tried looking for another job?" Rose wanted to know.

He nodded. "Yeah, but nothing has come up yet."

Lizzy came up to them and crawled onto the couch between them, opening her coloring book and ignoring the grown-ups' conversation. College and jobs and unions meant nothing to the four-year-old, except that they concerned her parents.

Mari watched them for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Your boss reminds me of someone I knew in high school when I was a senior," she told Jack. "There was this library lady who acted just like your boss. Maybe they're related."

"Maybe they're the same person."

Mari wrinkled her nose. "If it is, poor you. She was a bitch."

"Mari, watch your language," Rose warned. The more time Lizzy spent around Mari, the more she imitated her—and that included Mari's colorful way of expressing herself.

Jack pulled Lizzy into his lap, bouncing her absently on his knee. "What strikes me as strange is that the same people who scream furiously about people not having jobs are the same ones who refuse to hire them and give them a chance."

"I've noticed." Rose took Lizzy from him and set her in her lap, handing her the leftover remains of her vending machine snack. "And then, when we do have jobs, we're always vulnerable to cuts and to downsizing, while the people who make the most fuss sit back and relax."

"I think I may just join you in your politicking," Jack told her, watching Lizzy savor the leftover potato chips. "It seems like whatever we do, we just can't win."

"Well, if all else fails, just live for yourself and the people important to you, and tell the people with the power to go fu—" Mari stopped. "Sorry," she apologized. "But I just don't see what else to do."

"You've turned into a real cynic, Mari."

Mari shrugged. "I know. It comes with the territory. You should see the crap…uh…stuff…that people try to get away with regarding the environment. And all too often, they win. What else can little people like us do?"

"Just try to live each day for itself, do what you can, and make it count," Jack responded. "That's what I do. That's what Rose does. And maybe things will change or maybe they won't, but hiding from problems won't make them go away, and sitting back and accepting everything that happens is a dangerous path to follow."

Rose looked up in astonishment, hearing him echo her words. "I think you're more of a crusader than you realize," she told him, letting Lizzy climb out of her lap and go back to her coloring book. "You may not be as vocal as me, but I think that you care about things anyway, and if push came to shove, you'd be out there with me."

"Probably," Jack acknowledged, knowing that he could never let Rose face the world alone. Even though he rarely joined in her campaigns, at least not publicly, he did support her efforts to make the world a better place. He just had a different way of going about it.

"What I need to think about now, though, is where to find another job. I think I'll tell prospective employers not to contact Starcrest—they'd have quite a story for them, accurate or not. I just hope it doesn't take too long—the rent's due in three weeks, and Lizzy needs new clothes for summer."

Lizzy glanced up as she heard her name spoken, but quickly returned to her coloring. Jack put a comforting arm around Rose's shoulder.

"We'll think of something, Rose, one way or another."


	111. Going Home 5

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Eleven**

_April 25, 2009  
Perris, California_

Jack sat at the computer, searching through job websites. Two and a half months after being laid off from Vandekar Publishing, he still had not succeeded in finding another job, and the family's financial situation was growing more and more worrisome.

The rent was due in a few days, and although they would be able to cover their share, it wouldn't leave much to cover other necessities, such as food. They had taken to buying their food at the local Big Lots, and at a seventy-five percent off grocery discount store, but it still wasn't always enough, especially since Rose had lost her job with Starcrest. Even when they spent as little as possible, it still took a fair amount of money to feed the three of them, especially Lizzy, who was a growing child and couldn't go as long without food as the adults could.

Mari had offered repeatedly to help them, but she didn't have much money herself, and neither he nor Rose really wanted to take charity, although they accepted her help where Lizzy was concerned for the child's sake. For the most part, they simply tried to make do, making every penny stretch as far as they could and allowing nothing to be wasted.

Jack sighed, looking at Rose's sleeping form in the bed they shared. It was past eleven, but he wasn't ready to go to bed yet. Not while there was still time to look for work. As Rose turned over and opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at him, he saw the framed drawing that he had given her as her birthday gift hanging on the wall above the bed.

Today was Rose's twenty-fifth birthday, an event he would have liked to have celebrated in grander style than they could. A quarter of a century of life was an important event to mark, but there wasn't the money for him to have taken her out as he would have liked to. Instead, they had had a small party in a local park, with Mari providing the food and cake. Jack had given Rose the drawing and Lizzy had given her a bouquet of flowers that she had picked out of someone's garden when no one was looking. Jack had apologized for not being able to give her a bigger party, or take her to dinner, but she had waved it off, insisting that this was better—a picnic in the park on a warm late afternoon, with homemade gifts from they people she loved best.

Jack had accepted what she said, knowing that she was sincere, but he still intended to treat her to a night out when he could. He knew that it wasn't especially important to her, but he liked to give her the best that he could, and he knew she would accept and enjoy what he would give her when their situation improved.

Rose sat up, yawning and stretching. It had been a long day, searching for work and then watching Lizzy while Jack was at the college for a couple of hours, followed by her surprise party in the park, but after an hour of sleep she was relaxed and awake. Smiling, she looked at her husband hunched over the computer. With the amount of effort he was making, something was bound to turn up.

"Are you coming to bed anytime soon?" she asked, letting the covers drop suggestively.

Jack looked over at her, smiling at the sight of her wearing the green satin nightgown he had bought for her the first Christmas they had been married.

"Soon," he told her, closing the Internet window and shutting down the computer.

Rose climbed out of bed and slipped on her robe. "I'll be back in a moment. I must look like I've been sleeping."

"Yeah…but you look good that way."

She smiled and shook her head. "I'll only be a minute, then."

Jack stood up, stiff from sitting so long, and stretched. As he got ready for bed, his thoughts turned again to the problem of how to support his family.

He had looked for work everywhere he could, sending out his résumé, applying for jobs in person, even going through the career center at Cal State San Bernardino. So far, he had gotten only a few interviews, and no offers, but it was a step in the right direction. At this point, he didn't care what kind of job he took, as long as he could provide for his family. He had even applied at Starcrest, much to the shock of Rose and Mari, but they had taken one look at his résumé and turned him down as being overqualified—something Rose had gotten around by neglecting to mention her college degrees on her résumé and application. They had also noted that his last name was Dawson, and were unwilling to risk hiring anymore Dawsons for a while.

Jack slipped into bed, waiting for Rose to join him. He had also begun looking outside the area for a job, since he was having so little luck where he was. He didn't know how Rose would react if he found a job that would require them to move, but at this point he didn't have much choice but to take whatever might be offered to him. He had also looked into other universities that he could go to, since he wouldn't be able to afford even the state-run college after this quarter if things didn't improve for himself or Rose. Even with fee waivers, books were expensive, transportation was expensive, parking was expensive…and it would be a choice between paying the rent and going to college.

He knew that Rose would help him look for ways to stay in school—in only another year, if he stayed in college, he would have his Master's degree, and be qualified for a lot more jobs in his chosen field, but things were tight as it was, and when it was a choice between educating himself and keeping his family fed and sheltered, his family won. He could always go back to school later if he needed to—there were many older students in graduate programs these days, and he wasn't yet twenty-eight years old.

Still, maybe something could be worked out. He had applied for scholarships for grad students, and for grants and loans. He didn't like the idea of taking out a student loan—he hated being in debt—but sometimes such things were necessary. He had also applied with other universities that offered some grad students scholarships, if they were qualified, and he knew that he had a fair enough chance there. After all, he had graduated at the top of his class from UCR, and the UCs were renowned throughout the country.

He looked up as Rose came back into the room, her hair brushed out and a fresh touch of makeup on her face. He held the covers up for her as she slipped into bed, snuggling down beside him.

"You get more beautiful every year," he told her, putting his arms around her as she pulled the covers up over both of them.

"You're sweet." She kissed him, laughing softly.

"And honest."

"I think I look about the same as when we married."

"Yes, but you still get more beautiful all the time."

Rose laughed, reaching over to turn out the lamp. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"I thought you were trying to seduce me."

They laughed together, the sound cut off as their lips met. Jack pulled her closer, pushing aside the thin straps of her nightgown.

"Happy birthday, Rose."

She laughed softly, sliding down under his welcome weight. "I love you, Jack."


	112. Going Home 6

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Twelve**

_May 10, 2009_

Rose sat nervously in the large waiting room of the social services office, Lizzy sitting beside her in a hard plastic chair. Things had not improved much for the Dawsons as time passed, and she was growing desperate.

They hadn't hit bottom yet—Mari had promised that if they were unable to pay their share of the rent she would pay it, and they could pay her back later, and she was more than willing feed Lizzy when money was especially short—but Rose hated taking charity, and she knew that Jack didn't like it, either, although he rarely said as much. Neither of them would allow Mari to do more than pay the rent if it was necessary, and feed Lizzy—they wouldn't let the child suffer if there was a way around it—but something had to change, and soon.

Rose had never cared too terribly much about money, but when it came to the point that their ability to keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs became questionable, she paid more attention to it. Pride and a desire to live life for something other than material gain were fine, and were what she and Jack both wanted, but they both knew that they needed to provide for the basic needs of themselves and their child.

It was this knowledge that had brought Rose to the Perris office of Riverside County Social Services today. She didn't want to go on welfare, and wasn't sure how much assistance they would even be qualified for, since Jack had a part-time job and was occasionally able to sell his art, and she sang whenever possible, but she had to find out. There was a growing child who needed to be fed, and she and Jack also needed food and shelter. Had they been a childless couple, or if Lizzy had been older, they might have taken to the road, looking for whatever they could find, but it wasn't realistic to expect Lizzy to live that sort of a life at this age, and there was no one to help them.

They were living hand-to-mouth now, having exhausted what little savings were left after they had buried Paul five months earlier. Had it just been she and Jack, Rose would have looked upon the experience as an adventure, although possibly not the most pleasant sort. But having a child to care for had changed her perspective. She would do whatever it took to make sure that Lizzy's needs were met, even if it meant going on welfare.

"Rose Dawson?"

Rose stood, taking Lizzy's hand, as a social worker called to her. In spite of the wide variety of experiences she had had over the years, she had still been unsure of how to apply for assistance. She had arrived at Social Services not knowing what to do, much to the irritation of the receptionist, who had had to find her a social worker and had then sent her to fill out forms and wait.

As was often the case with the overburdened public services, it had been a long wait—almost two hours, during which time Rose had been grateful that Lizzy had found some other kids near her age to play with. The waiting area wasn't designed with children in mind, but like youngsters everywhere, they had used their imaginations to create their own games. Finally, Lizzy had come to sit beside her mother, playing with the Barbie doll she had stashed in Rose's purse. Rose had been grateful that her daughter was being so patient and well-behaved, although she had begun to ask when they could leave as time wore on.

Rose followed the social worker to a small, cramped cubicle, adorned with only a couple of pictures and a drooping plant, which she had to protect from the ever-curious Lizzy. Sinking into another hard plastic chair, she pulled the fidgeting child into her lap to keep her out of trouble.

"What are you here for, Rose?" The social worker sounded tired. She was faced daily with desperate people, many of whom had barely been making it when the economy fell apart and swept away what little stability they had.

Rose took a deep breath, wishing she didn't have to be here. "I…my family is experiencing some financial hardship. My husband's employer went bankrupt in February, leaving him without a job, and all he's got now is a part-time work study job at his college, which will end when the quarter ends, because he can't afford to keep going to school. Sometimes one of us gets some temp work, but not often enough to pay the bills. I have tried to find a steady job, but the only place I was successful at was Starcrest, and that…didn't work out."

The social worker looked at her sympathetically, having apparently heard about Starcrest more times than she cared to contemplate. Hugging Lizzy tighter, Rose went on.

"My husband and I both do freelance-type work—he's an artist, and I'm a musician—but we can't quite make ends meet, because there just isn't enough demand for what we do."

"So you're looking for assistance of some sort?"

Rose nodded. "Yes. Maybe welfare, or food stamps…something like that."

"Have you tried reapplying with Starcrest? I know they're difficult to work for—I used to work for them myself—but under the circumstances, it might be worth trying until something better comes along. Perhaps your husband could try to find a job there as well. They are the largest employer in this town."

"They won't hire me back, and they told him he was overqualified." Rose looked sheepish. "Also, I don't think they want to take a chance on anymore Dawsons for a while."

The social worker raised an eyebrow, wondering at Rose's last statement. "It's none of my business, but…"

"They fired me for trying to start a union. It's perfectly legal to unionize, as long as you do it on your own time, which I did, but they don't want a union there. They might actually have to pay people what they're worth."

"If they fired you for an illegal reason, you may be able to go back."

"I can't afford a lawyer to argue that, and they didn't say it in so many words. It was more like it wasn't working out—and they can fire you at will, with or without cause—but I could see the writing on the wall. I know the real reason."

"Have you looked elsewhere?"

"Yes…everywhere possible. But the economy is in poor shape, as I'm sure you've noticed, and I'm considered overqualified myself for many jobs—I have two Bachelor's degrees and five Associate's degrees. Not that they're doing me much good these days."

"What about your freelance work?"

"I'm a musician, as I said—a singer. I sing and play the guitar wherever I can, but my type of music isn't always popular. I sing folk songs and protest songs, and someone who didn't like what I was doing took a shot at me back in January, which made people cautious about hiring me to sing. I was also working for a small film production company, but they went under after their last film was a failure in the art houses, and I'm not well-known enough to make it in Hollywood. As to my husband's art, he's a fine artist, but he's not very well-known, either. He's sold a few pieces since he was laid off, but the most steady work he's been able to get is occasionally drawing political cartoons for small, local newspapers, which don't pay much."

"You said you have some film experience. Have you tried signing up to be a film extra?"

"Yes, but I'm not getting much work, and as a member of Screen Actor's Guild, I'm one of the more expensive extras to hire. I'm trying my hardest, but…right now, things just aren't working out, and we have a little girl who needs to eat. It isn't so much for my husband and I—we'll get by somehow, I'm sure, if we have to. But we have a daughter." She gestured to the child in her lap, pulling Lizzy's hands away from the wilted plant. "She's only four years old. She can't get any kind of job yet, except in film or modeling, and though I signed her up as an extra, too, she hasn't gotten any work."

"Do you have any family members who can help you out?"

"None. My husband's parents are dead, as is my father, and neither of us have any siblings. My mother and I have been estranged for years. We're living with a friend right now and sharing the rent, but we won't be able to afford that much longer."

"So, it's just you, your husband, and your daughter? No other children?"

"No. We…used to have a son, Paul, but…he was killed by a drunk driver last Thanksgiving." Rose ducked her head, trying to hide the tears that had suddenly filled her eyes.

"I'm sorry." The social worker passed her a box of Kleenex. "Rose, you are not qualified for welfare, since you have a husband and he has a job, however poorly paying. However, I think I can arrange for you to get food stamps and WIC, since you have a child under five. WIC is also available for pregnant women. Are you…?"

"No, and we're making sure I don't get that way. We can't support another child at this time."

"What are you currently paying in rent?"

"Five hundred dollars a month, since we share the rent with a friend."

"You might qualify for low-income housing, if necessary."

Rose nodded. "I'll look into that if it becomes necessary."

The social worker nodded. "If you will take these forms, fill them out, and bring them back to me, you will be able to receive the assistance I have told you about. Is this an emergency situation? Do you have enough to eat at the moment?"

"Yes, for now. My husband just sold some artwork on eBay, so we have a little money for food."

"Then it may be a couple of weeks before you start receiving assistance. Hopefully, you won't be cut off by the state. There are some financial problems in California."

Rose nodded. "I know. I read the newspaper." She set Lizzy down and got to her feet. "Thank you. I don't want to see my daughter go hungry."

"I try to do what I can, Rose. Unfortunately, times are tough for everyone. We may be facing layoffs and furloughs here ourselves."

Rose shook her head sympathetically. "I hope things work out for you. Good luck. I'll have those papers back to you soon."

"If I'm busy, just put them in the box outside my cubicle."

Rose nodded and took Lizzy by the hand, looking at the new pile of paperwork and sighing.


	113. Going Home 7

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Thirteen

_June 1, 2009  
Perris, California_

In spite of their troubles, things gradually did improve for the Dawsons. The availability of WIC and food stamps eased their minds a great deal, especially where Lizzy was concerned, and at last they both found steady employment, even if the jobs weren't exactly what they had dreamed of.

A local pizza restaurant that had a great deal of trouble keeping employees consented to hire both of them, Jack as a cook and Rose as a delivery driver. It wasn't the best job that either of them had ever had, but it wasn't the worst, either, being far better, in their opinions, than either Sunpeak or Starcrest.

Jack found his job to be safe enough, but he worried about Rose going out to deliver pizzas all over town. Most people who ordered pizza to be delivered simply wanted their food, but there were a few who were dangerous, who might try to take advantage of the driver or do them harm. Rose, however, wasn't as helpless as some people supposed, and she purchased a can of pepper spray at a local gas station. Fortunately, she had only had to use it once.

Still, these jobs weren't what they wanted to do forever, and they both continued to look for other employment, even applying for jobs out of the area and even out of state. They didn't have much where they were, so a move wouldn't make much difference to either of them.

Jack was at home with Lizzy one morning—he didn't start work until two o'clock, and then worked until 10:30—while Rose was out grocery shopping. Their current jobs on the afternoon shift required that they get essential tasks done in the morning, leaving their working hours undisturbed. Lizzy played happily with her Barbie doll, far more relaxed and content now that her parents were no longer so tense and worried.

Jack was finishing washing the breakfast dishes when the phone rang. Setting the last dish in the rack on the counter, he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"May I speak to Jack Dawson, please?"

"Speaking." Jack wondered who it was, and couldn't help but hope that one of his resumes was getting a response.

"Mr. Dawson, my name is Marc Humphrey. I'm with the Admissions Office for the University of Wisconsin in Eau Claire."

Jack looked over at the table where a stack of sorted mail lay. He had applied to the University of Wisconsin in Eau Claire earlier, hoping to be accepted into the Master's program to further study psychology, but when the acceptance letter had come, he had realized that in spite of the fact that a partial scholarship was offered, he simply didn't have the money to go there or to move his family to Wisconsin. Things were precarious enough as they were; he couldn't afford to uproot his family and move them elsewhere with no way to support them.

"How can I help you, Mr. Humphrey?"

"Mr. Dawson, we sent you an acceptance letter to our psychology program. As one of the top applicants, we were wondering if you had chosen to attend our university."

"I thought about it, but even with the scholarship, my family is having financial difficulties and won't be able to afford to move to Eau Claire."

"Mr. Dawson, the reason that I called, in addition to asking whether you were going to attend this university, was to tell you that the university has offered you a full-time, paid internship with Counseling Services, which would last the duration of your time as a student, either one year if you just complete your Master's degree, or longer if you enroll in the Doctorate program. You applied for an internship, but the decisions weren't made regarding that until yesterday."

"You're offering me an internship?" Jack couldn't believe it. Things had been bad for so long, but now…maybe things really were starting to improve for them.

"Yes, as well as admission to the psychology program and a partial scholarship. Your transcripts showed that you have consistently earned A's both as an undergraduate and as a grad student. Your letters of recommendation also indicated that you would fit in well in this program. Do you plan to accept?"

Jack made his decision on the spot. "Yes, I accept…the enrollment, the internship, and the scholarship."

"Good. Send in your acceptance letter and your paperwork, and we'll see you August eighteenth."

Jack could barely contain his excitement. "Right. Thanks."

After hanging up the phone, he looked around, suddenly full of energy. Abruptly, he picked Lizzy up, swinging her around and setting her on his shoulders. She squealed with delight, not sure what was happening, but enjoying herself anyway.

"Guess what, Lizzy?"

"What?"

"Your daddy's going back to college."

She cheered, then leaned over his head and looked at him upside down. "Can I come?"

"Not to college, Busy Lizzy, but we'll all be going to Wisconsin, and you'll be big enough for Kindergarten."

"Okay." Lizzy didn't know where Wisconsin was, but with her daddy so happy, she figured it must be someplace nice. She giggled as he plopped down on the couch, taking her from his shoulders and setting her on the couch beside him.

Jack leaned forward, drumming his fingers impatiently on the small coffee table. He couldn't wait for Rose to get home so that he could tell her his news.


	114. Going Home 8

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Fourteen

_June 1, 2009  
Perris, California_

Rose stood in line at the supermarket, idly scanning a magazine while she waited. There was something to be said for grocery shopping in the morning, rather than in the afternoon or evening—the lines weren't as long, because there weren't as many people out shopping yet.

Putting the magazine back in the rack, she scanned the contents of her cart, then checked her purse, making sure that she had her WIC voucher. In spite of being employed, there wasn't always enough money to buy food, not the good, nutritious foods that all of them, especially Lizzy, needed. She and Jack were willing to make sacrifices for themselves, but they wouldn't sacrifice their child's health and well-being.

Rose looked down in surprise as the cell phone in her purse rang, startling her. She wasn't expecting any calls. Pulling it out, she pushed the talk button. "Hello?"

In spite of their continuing poverty, Jack and Rose had kept the use of the cell phone, for the sake of safety, if nothing else. Jack worried about Rose driving all over town to deliver pizzas, and insisted that she carry it. Rose had given him an exasperated look the first time he had tucked it into her pocket, but inside she was glad to have it. Her job could be dangerous, and she glad to have the ability to call for help if she needed it. Thus far, she had been able to take care of herself, but she felt better knowing that she could get help if it became necessary.

"May I speak to Rose Dawson, please?"

"Speaking."

"Rose, my name is Patricia Roth. I'm with the Human Resources department of _The Chippewa News_."

Rose frowned, remembering that she had sent her résumé to a paper called _The Chippewa News_ some months ago. She had never received a response, and thus had assumed that her application had been rejected. Since the paper was based in Wisconsin, far from where the Dawsons lived, she hadn't been terribly disappointed

"Okay." Her voice betrayed her confusion, as the cell phone number she had given then was no longer hers—she had given up her own cell phone in favor of Jack's cheaper one when their financial problems had become severe. "How did you get this number?"

"Your husband gave it to me. I called your home, and he directed me to call you on your cell phone."

"What did you need to speak with me about?" They couldn't be offering her a job, could they? It had been so long since she had submitted her résumé, and many papers were cutting back now, anyway.

"Rose…may I call you Rose?"

"Go ahead."

"Rose, _The Chippewa News_ has been searching for a full-time local features writer. As I'm sure you're aware, we've expanded considerably the past two years."

"Actually, no. Most papers are cutting back or even going bankrupt."

The woman was silent for a moment. Rose bit her tongue, reminding herself that if there was any possibility they might offer her a job, she would do well to curb her tongue and not annoy someone who might be in charge of hiring. Finally, the interviewer said, "Well, _The Chippewa News, _which was established about five years ago to compete with the other local paper, _The Chippewa _Herald, has been expanding to fill the vacuum left by the papers that have gone bankrupt. Now, as I've said, we've been looking for a full-time local features writer, and your résumé stood out."

Rose couldn't help but wonder if it had stood out in a good way. She had done her share of writing, especially since she had gotten her Associate's degree in English, but she had seldom written professionally, except for her songs, and her reputation tended to precede her. Thinking of what to say, she responded, "But I applied several months ago, and I'm not actually a professional journalist—I mostly just blog."

"Another person was hired when the job was posted, but they left soon thereafter for family reasons. Your résumé was saved in our database. We were looking for someone local, but no one qualified has applied, and the work you've placed the Internet shows that you write about local issues as well as national and international ones. You also have an impressive educational background."

"Well…thank you, but I'm still not a journalist."

"You've done some free-lance work for newspapers in Southern California, and an Internet search revealed that you've written opinion pieces for a number of on-line and underground publications, as well as your own blog."

"But most of that wasn't paid work. It was just me contributing my opinion."

"You've shown a great deal of knowledge and understanding regarding current events and their history, both on local issues and national ones."

"I've also written and performed songs on various issues. I'm primarily a musician." Rose decided to cut to the chase. "Let me get this straight." Rose paused for a moment as she reached the front of the line, pulling out her WIC voucher and her wallet. "Are you offering me a job?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing."

"What does _The Chippewa News _cover? Is it just local, or does it also deal with national and international events? I apologize for not knowing, but I didn't think anything would come of my application."

"It's primarily a regional newspaper based in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, but also serving the surrounding region. As I said, though, we've been expanding, and though most national and international news comes from other news services, we do send a few people to report on major events elsewhere in the country, and we may be expanding on that. We also look at how events outside our region affect the people within it, which is something your work has shown that you are good at looking at. The owner thinks that you would fit in perfectly as a member of our staff—if you're interested."

Rose had never really thought she'd become a journalist, but the idea and the offer, once presented, did interest her. "Would this be a telecommuting job?"

"Actually, we would need you to work from our news office, with trips into the local area."

Rose was silent for a moment, considering, as she counted out the amount of money she needed and waited for the manager to check over her WIC purchases. "And your news office is in Chippewa Falls?"

"Yes. Would that be a problem?"

"Well, I am currently living in California, halfway across the country."

"I see. Would you be willing to relocate?"

Rose thought about it. She had lived in California all her life. It was her home. On the other hand, she didn't seem to be having much success where she was living now, not as a singer and not as anything else, and neither did Jack. And there were things that she didn't like about California, like the ever-growing population and the lack of resources to support that population. Life was hard for far too many people, the Dawsons included. This job would offer the whole family a new beginning.

"Actually, I would be willing to relocate. When do you need me to start?"

"Would three weeks be sufficient time?"

Rose thought quickly. She and Jack would have to resign from their current jobs, cancel their social services, pack up their belongings, and make their way to Chippewa Falls. Once there, they would have to find a place to live and sign Lizzy up for Kindergarten in the fall. But she wouldn't have to handle it alone. Jack could search for a place for them to live and take care of enrolling Lizzy while she started work, and her income would probably be sufficient to support them until he could find a job of his own.

"I think it would be enough time—would you want me to start June twenty-first or twenty-second?"

"June twenty-second. The job is basically forty hours a week, more or less, depending upon the amount of work needed. It pays twenty-five hundred a month to start, plus mileage and the costs of any trips you have to make. Benefits include health insurance and 401K, but no stock options at this time, since we are not yet publicly traded."

Rose wasn't any too willing to put much faith in stock options—not after what had happened to Vandekar Publishing—but the overall package sounded good to her. "Can I have all this in writing? I don't want to make such an extensive move, and then find out that there was no job waiting for me."

"There will be a job waiting for you, but we will express mail you the contract and all the details."

"When should this be arriving?"

"Within the next day or two."

"All right. And what will I need to do?"

"Sign the contract and send it back. You're welcome to make a copy for yourself, if you feel the need."

"I do. I wouldn't make much of a journalist if I didn't feel the need to thoroughly research things, would I?"

The interviewer laughed. "No, you wouldn't. So, it's settled, then? You'll take the job?"

"Yes, I'll take it. This doesn't require my social security number, credit card number, or bank account information, does it?" She laughed slightly, excited over the prospect of a new career, but still a little suspicious.

"Not until you start working. Then we'll need your social security number—for tax purposes, you understand."

"Of course."

"The only reason we'll need any bank account information is if you want direct deposit of your paycheck."

"Sounds legit." Rose handed her money over to the cashier, waiting while she gave her the change.

"We'll send you all the details, including the work address. Do you want the phone number, in case you have any questions?"

"Yes."

Patricia quickly gave her the number, which Rose jotted down on the back of her receipt. Tucking it into her purse, she said, "Thank you. You don't know how great this is. I'll be there June twenty-second at…"

"Eight o'clock AM."

"Eight. Right. I'll be there. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Rose. Thank you. We've been looking to fill this position for quite some time."

"I'll do my best."

Rose hung up and tucked the phone back into her purse. Ignoring a few hostile stares from other customers, caused both by the delay while her merchandise was checked and the fact that a WIC recipient had a cell phone—however old the phone was—she pushed her cart out of the store, a new spring in her step. Things were finally looking up for them again.


	115. Going Home 9

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Fifteen

_June 1, 2009  
Perris, California_

Rose practically skipped from the parking lot to the apartment door, her grocery bags bumping against her legs. Her hands too full to get out her keys, she tapped on the door with her foot, calling, "Jack! Let me in!"

A moment later, the door flew open. Lizzy stood before her, a goofy grin on her face. "Mommy! Guess what?"

"What, Busy-Lizzy?"

"Daddy's going to college!"

Rose froze, the smile fading from her face. This could be a problem.

Jack came out of the bathroom, taking the grocery bags from Rose and carrying them into the kitchen. Rose followed him, not sure how to tell him about her job offer.

"I hear you're going back to college," she told him, beginning to put the groceries away.

Jack raised an eyebrow at Lizzy. "I thought I told you to let me tell her."

"Sorry." Lizzy looked a little sheepish, but she was too excited to really be sorry.

"Congratulations," Rose told him hesitantly, knowing how much it meant to him to be able to go back to college. The new job meant a lot to her, too, but she knew that there would have to be a compromise made somewhere.

"You don't sound too enthusiastic."

"I'm sorry, Jack. It's just…that caller who you had call the cell phone…"

"Yes?"

"She offered me a job as an local feature writer for a regional newspaper."

"You could work from home…right?"

"Actually, she wanted me to work at the office."

"And did you accept the offer?"

"Yes."

"Shit." He sat down at the table, drumming his fingers against the wood. "We're going to have make a compromise here."

"Yeah." Rose sat down across from him, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"Rose, this is a great opportunity for me. I've been admitted to the Psychology program at the University of Wisconsin in Eau Claire, with a full-time, paid internship and a partial scholarship." He sighed. "I suppose that I could apply with another college—I have a good enough record to go almost anywhere—but it would probably take an extra semester or quarter to get in, and I'd have to find a new internship."

Rose's eyes had widened at the mention of Eau Claire. Leaning forward, she asked, "Jack, how far apart are Eau Claire and Chippewa Falls?" It hadn't seemed very far when they had visited a few years earlier, but appearances could be deceiving.

He gave her a confused look. "Eleven or twelve miles. Why?"

"Because the job offer was from _The Chippewa News_—based in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin."

Jack gave her a stunned look. "You're kidding." He frowned. "Don't you mean _The Chippewa Herald_?"

"No, _The Chippewa News_. They started up a few years ago to compete with _The Chippewa Herald_, and have been expanding to fill the gap as other papers go bankrupt. Apparently they've expanded quite a bit, and they saved the resume I submitted a few months ago. I guess they liked what they saw, because they offered me this job."

"But your degrees are in music and political science, not journalism."

Rose shrugged. "I've done quite a bit of writing. I guess it was enough to convince them that I was the person they wanted to hire."

Jack sat back, still amazed. "Well, I guess I won't have to worry anymore about you delivering pizzas all over town."

Rose grinned. "You mean newspaper reporters never find trouble?"

"Be careful, Rose. I don't know why, but if there's trouble in a twenty mile radius, you always seem to find it."

Rose looked insulted for a moment, then shook her head ruefully. "That tendency saved your life once. Anyway, the job sounds like a good opportunity, and I'm going to take it. I'll try to stay out of trouble, but I won't make a promise I can't keep."

"I do worry about you, but…I also know you have a good head on your shoulders, even if you do get yourself into sticky situations." Jack picked up Lizzy and put her in his lap as she wandered up to the table. "Since Eau Claire and Chippewa Falls aren't too terribly far apart, we can both take what was offered to us. It would be a short commute, doable even in bad weather—usually."

"So…I guess it's off to Wisconsin, then."

"Yeah, I guess so." He paused for a moment, thinking, then grinned, banging his fist on the table and startling Lizzy. "I'm going home!"

Enthusiastically, he stood, setting Lizzy down and pulling Rose out of her chair. He whirled her around while she squealed and giggled. Jack pulled her close and they kissed, enjoying the moment until Lizzy's voice interrupted them.

"Ew! Gross! You're kissing!"

Jack patted Lizzy on the head, chuckling. The child had recently developed an aversion to her parents' displays of affection. "So we are." He turned back to kissing Rose as Lizzy ran from the kitchen in disgust.


	116. Going Home 10

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Sixteen**

_June 3, 2009  
Perris, California_

Jack and Rose did not quit their jobs or tell Mari of the offers they had gotten until they received the paperwork in the mail two days later, confirming that the phone calls were legitimate. That day, they both quit their jobs at the pizza place and began preparing to leave.

Mari came home from work that afternoon, surprised to find both Jack and Rose there. Usually, Rose went off to work in the early afternoon, with Jack heading out at around 5:30, leaving Lizzy in her care.

Rose was on the phone, an aggravated look on her face as she pushed one button after another, trying to get a live person on the line. Finally, she gave up, slamming the phone down in frustration.

"I'll try again tomorrow," she declared. "I swear, social services loves voice mail."

Mari gave her a confused look, then took in the stack of boxes they had gotten from local businesses to pack their belongings. "What's going on?"

"Well…" Rose sat down on the couch next to Jack. Lizzy climbed up next to them, almost bursting with the secret she had promised not to tell.

Jack leaned forward, explaining what had happened. "Rose got a great job offer from a newspaper in my hometown of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, as a local feature writer, and I have been accepted into the University of Wisconsin, Eau Claire, which isn't far away from there, with a partial scholarship and a full time internship with Counseling Services. These are great opportunities for both of us—we're finally getting back on our feet—and so we decided to accept them."

Mari was silent for a moment, looking at them. "When did you find out?"

Rose looked a little sheepish. "Two days ago, actually. We both got phone calls, but we decided to wait until we got the paperwork to be sure that the offers were legitimate, and not from people trying to sell something or make fake offers for whatever convoluted reason was in their minds."

"I take it you'll be moving, then?"

"Yeah. Wisconsin's too far away to commute."

"Obviously." Mari tapped her fingers on her chin. "When will you be leaving?"

"That eager to get rid of us, huh?" Jack teased her.

Rose elbowed him in the ribs. "In a couple of days, probably. We need to pack up and cancel our social services. My new job starts June twenty-second, but we'll be going to Wisconsin the slow way—driving. We can't afford airfare or any other way of shipping our belongings. We could make it in two days if we pushed hard enough, but we'll probably take three or four days to get there."

"Where are you going to live?"

Jack shrugged. "We'll have to find a place when we get there. We don't have enough money now to rent a place, even though the cost of living is lower there than here. We'll have to wait until after Rose gets her first paycheck to get a place to live, but this is summer. We can camp out."

Mari shook her head. "I'm jealous. I wish I could go with you guys. What an adventure!" She paused, thinking. "Are you going to stay in Chippewa Falls or Eau Claire?"

"We haven't decided yet. It depends upon what we find and what's available."

Mari nodded. "I'll miss you guys."

Lizzy tugged on Rose's arm. "Mommy, isn't Aunt Mari going with us?"

"Well…no, Lizzy. Aunt Mari lives here."

"We live here…"

"But we're moving. We're going to Wisconsin."

"Is that a long ways away?"

Rose nodded. She wouldn't lie to the child. "Yes."

"Why do we have to move?"

"Because your daddy and I have new jobs there, and your daddy is going to go to college."

"Why can't he go to college here?"

"Because the college he wants to go to is in Wisconsin."

"But I don't wanna go!"

"It won't be so bad, Lizzy," Jack assured her, leaning over and cupping the little girl's chin in his hand. "I grew up there. It's a nice place, and you'll make lots of new friends."

"I wanna stay with Aunt Mari!"

Rose could see that a temper tantrum was about to begin. "Lizzy, we're moving. All the crying in the world won't change that. You can still talk to Aunt Mari on the phone, and when you learn to read and write, you can send her letters and e-mails."

Lizzy wasn't soothed. "No!" she howled. "It's not fair! I wanna stay here! Why can't Aunt Mari come?"

"Because my job is here, Lizzy." Mari sat down next to her and tried to hug the girl, but Lizzy wouldn't have it. Scrambling to her feet, she burst into tears and ran down the hall, slamming the door of the room she shared with Mari.

Mari watched her go, looking sad. Rose sighed.

"She'll get used to the idea eventually. This isn't the first time we've moved, though I'll admit that five moves in four years is a lot."

"I'll miss her, too." Mari leaned back against the couch. "You guys are like family."

"Don't your parents still live here in town?"

"Yeah, but not for long. They're moving to New Mexico."

"If you don't want to stay here, you don't have to."

Mari shook her head. "I'll miss everybody, but I'm staying. My work is here, at least for now." She grinned wickedly. "I love having the opportunity to thwart developers by finding endangered species on the land they want to develop."

"That's part of why I'm eager to go," Rose told her. "I don't like the way things are going in California. There're too many people, too much crowding, and no one seems to pay much attention to the lack of things that people need, like roads, schools, water, fresh air…"

"You and I pay attention!" Mari reminded her.

"And so do I," Jack added.

"Yes, but it seems like we're in the minority. People can be so apathetic. The world can fall apart around them, and they'll ignore it, at least until something shocks them out of their apathy for a while."

"_The Bubble Society_," Mari said. "You wrote it at the end of college."

"I still think it's one of my best songs, and it hasn't gotten any less true. People go around in a little bubble, never noticing what's going on around them, until something happens to burst that bubble. Then, they scream in shock—and after a while, they forget, and go back inside their bubble. But every time, the bubble gets weaker, and one day they won't be able to ignore things any longer—but by then it may be too late to fix things."

"I hate to say it, Rose," Jack told her, "but part of the reason why your music career has stalled might be that you use it to speak out. A lot of people think that entertainers should just do one thing—entertain—and anything else is out of their scope."

"But not all of us are that shallow, and if a person has the ability to speak out, and doesn't use it—they're just as guilty of apathy as anyone else. We all have a responsibility to speak out, no matter who it offends. That's one of the great things about being an American—the ability to speak our minds. Just because I can reach more people than someone else doesn't mean that I should speak out less. In fact, my very ability to reach all those people makes it my responsibility to speak out."

Jack threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "I'm not arguing with you, Rose. I agree with you. But there are people who get upset about your speaking your mind."

"So what else is new?" Rose shrugged. "I won't sell out to those who would silence me and others. We all have the right and responsibility to speak out. Besides, I've noticed that if people agree with what you're saying, they're all for you saying it, but if they disagree, they think you should shut up. You both know that as well as I do."

"I know." Jack picked up his portfolio from the coffee table. "I'm an artist, too, just a different kind from you. I've seen how upset people get when they're shown something they don't want to see. I don't know why that is."

"Maybe because it makes them think?" Mari suggested. "Because it challenges the beliefs that they cling to, even when the evidence tells them that they're wrong? I think that's why people get so angry at the artistic people like you two. It's not because life reflects art, it's because art reflects life, and it isn't always a pretty reflection."

"I think that's affected both Rose and I," Jack commented. "We're both artists, and neither of us is content to look only at the surface. We both feel the need to go deeper—and that makes some people really uncomfortable."

"But discomfort turns to comfort and even habit after a while," Rose told him. "Sweeping problems under the rug won't get rid of them—it just gives you a dirty, lumpy rug, and after a while, the dirt comes right through the rug."

"I think you'll make a great reporter, Rose," Mari told her. "You know what to say to catch people's attention, and I can't see you bowing down to anyone. I wish you both the best of luck."

"Thanks, Mari. I'll do my best. We all will."


	117. Going Home 11

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Seventeen

_June 5, 2009_

"Mommy, I don't wanna leave!" Lizzy wailed, clinging to Mari as Rose carried the last of their belongings to the hybrid.

"I know, Lizzy, but we've been over this before. You're coming with us, and Aunt Mari is staying here."

"It's not fair!"

"Life's not fair." Rose was getting fed up with Lizzy's whining.

"But, Mommy…"

"Lizzy, that's enough!" Rose's voice was impatient.

Mari picked Lizzy up, giving her a hug. "It won't be so bad, Busy-Lizzy. You're going on an adventure. You get to see a brand new place, and camp out half the summer, and then you get to go to kindergarten, and make new friends…"

"No!" wailed Lizzy. "I wanna stay here…"

"You'll like Wisconsin, Lizzy. It snows there in the winter. You like snow, don't you?"

"No." Lizzy crossed her arms over her chest. She did like snow—her parents had taken her up to the mountains in the winter to play in it—but she didn't want to admit that there might be anything good about this move.

"I'll tell you something, Lizzy. I already talked to your mom and dad, and they say it's okay if I come and visit around Christmas. I'll have some vacation time, and we can have some fun then."

"I want you to come now." Christmas seemed a long way off in June.

"I can't, Lizzy. I have to go to work." Mari turned the child's face to look at her. "I'll tell you what, Lizzy. As soon as there's a place I can send it to, I'll send you a book on the plants up in Wisconsin. Your mom and dad can read it to you until you learn how to read, and then you can send me an e-mail telling me what you learned. You'll be able to see things that I can't, and tell me about them."

"You can look at 'em at Christmas."

"No, Lizzy. There'll be too much snow then. Christmas is in the winter, remember?"

"I don't wanna go!"

"I know, Lizzy, but you have to. You'll have fun. Really you will. And I won't forget to send you that book. I'll try to find one full of pictures…"

"Lizzy, sweetie, it's time to go." Rose came over to them, taking the little girl from Mari.

Lizzy immediately let loose with a wail that had people turning and staring at them. "No! Don't wanna go!" she screeched, kicking angrily. "No wanna! No wanna! No wanna!"

"Stop it, Lizzy. You're too big to act like this." Rose set her down. "Are you going to act like a big girl or a baby?"

Lizzy's face screwed up into a pout. "Mommy…"

"Come on, Lizzy." Jack walked over, crouching down and looking seriously at her. "We have a long trip, and you can't cry all the way there."

"Can so," Lizzy mumbled, looking at the ground.

Mari smiled, crouching down and looking Lizzy in the eye. "Lizzy, you're going to have to tell me if you see a jackalope."

"What's a jackalope?" Lizzy was intrigued in spite of herself.

"It's a rabbit with antlers like a deer. I've never seen one, but they're supposed to exist all over the west. I want you to keep an eye out and tell me if you see one on the way, or when you get to Wisconsin."

"Okay." Lizzy didn't know what else to say. "Can we go look for them at Christmas?"

"Sure, if your mom and dad say it's okay." Mari hugged the child. "Now, you'd better let your mom get you in the car and buckle you in. The sooner you get going, the sooner you can look for jackalopes."

"I gotta go potty."

"Let's hurry and take you then, Lizzy. You have a long way to go."

*****

In spite of Lizzy's stalling, the Dawsons were on the road a few minutes later, Jack driving the old sedan and Rose driving the hybrid. Lizzy sat in her car seat in the hybrid, sobbing miserably.

"Mommy, no!" she wailed. Rose just sighed and kept on driving, turning onto the freeway to go north.

When her wails got no response, Lizzy quieted, staring sullenly out the window as her mother drove through the outskirts of Perris and toward Riverside. "Mommy?" she finally asked quietly.

"Yes, Lizzy?"

"When are we gonna be there?"

"In three or four days, Busy-Lizzy."

"Are we gonna drive all the time?"

"No. We'll stop and eat, and go camping at night."

"Do you think we'll see a jackalope?"

"Maybe, sweetie." Rose hoped that the child would let go of that idea soon. She didn't want her setting herself up for disappointment. Jackalopes didn't really exist.

"Do you think we'll see one here?"

"Oh…I don't think so, Lizzy. We're in Riverside, and I've never seen one here."

"Oh. But what if there is one?"

"Then we'll call Aunt Mari and tell her about it. Okay?"

"Okay."

A few minutes later, Rose pulled into the Riverside National Cemetery, coming to a stop as Jack pulled up beside her.

"Where are we, Mommy?" Lizzy wanted to know.

"We're in Riverside, Lizzy. We're going to visit your brother's grave one more time before we go."

"Why can't we take it with us?"

"Because it's in the ground here, Lizzy. It can't be moved, and see the grass growing there? It wouldn't have him for food anymore."

"Oh." Lizzy had gone with her parents a couple of times when they had gone to visit the grave and place toys and flowers on it. "Mommy, who's gonna visit if we're not here?"

"Aunt Mari will, Lizzy. She loved Baby Paul, too."

Lizzy nodded. "Okay. She couldn't do that if she came with us, could she?"

"No, Lizzy, she couldn't. See why it's good that she's going to be here?"

"I guess." Lizzy still wished that Mari was coming with them.

Jack came up to them and took Rose's hand, walking with them to the tiny grave. There was a small, plain marker there, giving Paul's name and the dates of his birth and death, as well as the words _Beloved Son and Brother_. They stood there for a moment, looking down at it, before Jack leaned down and put a handful of flowers at the base of the marker.

Rose leaned against him, growing teary-eyed. She missed her infant son, who would have been almost a year old if he had lived. Had he really been gone for more than six months?

"Jack, how can we leave him? He's just a baby."

Jack just pulled her close, at a loss for words. He was growing choked-up himself.

Lizzy pulled a tattered-looking Barbie doll dress from her pocket and put it next to the flowers. "I love you, Baby Paul. Aunt Mari's gonna visit you and bring you toys and flowers."

Jack and Rose sank down next to Lizzy, hugging the little girl between them. Jack finally spoke.

"We love you, Baby Paul. Nothing would make us happier than to have you with us now, but you can be sure that we'll be back to visit again someday." He quickly wiped a tear from his cheek. "I love you, my son."

Rose nodded, sniffing and wrapping her arms around both her husband and her daughter. "I love you, too, Paul," she whispered. "I miss you so much…my arms feel empty without my baby boy to hold. We'll never forget you. I promise."

Lizzy stared at her parents, both of whom were crying quietly. Growing teary-eyed herself at the sight, she tried to hug both of them, whispering, "You've still got me."

"Yes, we do, Busy-Lizzy," Rose responded, hugging her back.

"And we love you so much," Jack added, pulling both of them into his embrace.

They sat that way for a few minutes, all three of them crying quietly. Finally, Rose lifted her head, looking at her husband sadly. "We can't leave him, Jack."

"Rose…" Jack pulled her closer, holding her tight. Lizzy struggled to get out from between them.

Letting her go, Jack tilted Rose's chin up until she was looking at him. "He…he'll be all right, Rose. I know he will. We'll be no farther from him in Wisconsin than we are here. We'll have to leave his grave behind…" He stopped as Rose reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Rose…I can't leave him either."

"But we have to," she murmured. "He's all right, Jack. He's not really here anymore…he's with my father, and your parents, and David…he doesn't lack for love and care. I…I…maybe it is too soon to leave."

"But we have to go, Rose. We don't have any choice. How many people really want their loved ones to stay and mourn them forever? I don't think Paul would have wanted us to…even if he was just a baby."

"I know, but…my poor baby. He was so little…he'd be almost a year old now if he'd lived. Almost a year ago, you helped me give birth to him in the front seat of that old car…and he's gone now. We'll never hold him again, watch him grow…it's like he never existed at all."

"No, Rose. He did exist. He was our baby, and we were…blessed to have him during his short life. And we'll never forget him. We have pictures of him, and the little souvenirs of his life that we saved…he'll be with us as long as we live."

"I'll never forget…"

"I won't, either. None of us will." He looked at Lizzy, who was sitting in the grass a few feet away, watching them sadly. "But our lives are going on. We'll always remember him…but we have to keep going. Oh, Rose…"

He held her tight, his shoulders shaking. Rose clung to him, rocking back and forth slightly. "I know, love. I know," she whispered. "I miss him, too, so much."

"He was our child, our son. How can any parent stand to lose a child?"

"I don't know. Day by day, I suppose—just like us. Wherever we go, he'll be with us. He'll always be in our hearts—no matter what happens or where we go."

Jack just nodded, looking out over the quiet, sunlit cemetery, the warm, peaceful spot that was their son's final resting place. After a few minutes, he got up, helping Rose to her feet and putting a hand out to Lizzy.

Rose looked back once as they returned to their cars, memorizing the sight of the tiny grave in the morning sunlight. She hugged Jack before they parted, kissing him briefly and whispering, "We'll be okay. I know we will."

Jack squeezed her hand. "We will, Rose. I know it, too."

"Let's go home, Jack. Home to Wisconsin. It's time to start a new life."


	118. If I Had a Hammer 1

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Eighteen

_June 8, 2009  
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin_

Rose pulled over to the side of the road, waiting for Jack to catch up, as she saw the sign reading _Welcome to Chippewa Falls_. They hadn't yet decided whether they would stay in Chippewa Falls or Eau Claire, or another nearby town.

Rose unbuckled Lizzy from her car seat and got out of the hybrid, pointing out the sign to the little girl. Lizzy still couldn't read much, but she sensed her mother's excitement.

"We're almost there, Busy Lizzy! Pretty soon we'll set up camp and stay there for a while. No more getting into the car in the morning and driving all day. You can play all day if you want."

Just then, Jack's sedan appeared on the road. He slowed down, pulling over behind the hybrid.

"How long have you been waiting?" he asked, getting out and going to stand beside Rose and Lizzy. He grinned at the sight of the Chippewa Falls sign.

"Not long. Just a few minutes." Rose grabbed Lizzy's hand as she moved toward the road. "Stay out of the street, Lizzy. I don't want you getting run over."

"Sorry. I got stuck behind a big rig. You know how that goes."

"Yeah. I must say, though, that I'm impossible to miss with this hybrid. How many people drive a car painted with roses? I'm a moving landmark." She frowned. "If that makes any sense."

Jack laughed. "Where do you want to go? Do you want to stay here in Chippewa Falls, or go over to Eau Claire?"

She shrugged. "I really don't know. I've only been here once, and we stayed in a motel that time. You're the one who's from around here."

"Then I'd like to try Chippewa Falls first, see if there's a place where we can camp. After all, your job is going to be here, and this is my old home. I know my way around pretty well—even if it has been about thirteen years since I've lived here. Things can't have changed that much."

Rose nodded. "It shouldn't be too hard to find a place to camp. It is a Monday, after all. Most people will be at work or at school, I assume—even in June."

"We'll look for a place to stay around here, then."

"You lead the way. I don't where anything is here."

*****

It was just past six o'clock in the afternoon when the Dawsons found a place to set up their long-term camp—their home until there was enough money to pay rent. The campground charged them for space, too, but it was considerably less than what it would have cost to stay in a motel, and they had enough money to keep them there until Rose received her first paycheck.

Lizzy ran about merrily, delighted to discover that the family camping two spaces down had several children, including a pair of twin girls just a few months younger than her. Jack and Rose shook their heads, smiling, as Lizzy excitedly told them about the "jackalope" she had seen.

Their second day on the road, as they were driving through Utah, they had stopped for lunch in an open area with just a few scattered trees. Lizzy, bored with sitting in the hybrid all day, had run around the area, exploring. Her parents had been alerted by her squeals of delight as she looked at a pile of dead wood and brush stacked against a barbed wire fence.

Lizzy had insisted that she had seen a jackalope, pointing to the spot where it had been—a spot low to the ground with two twisted pieces of wood that did indeed resemble antlers. She had told them that there had been a jackalope there just a minute before, and that it had hopped off and left its antlers there. Her parents had smiled indulgently, knowing that what she had seen was actually a rabbit sitting under the pieces of wood, but when she had begged to have one of the "antlers" for a souvenir, they had allowed it—the pile had obviously been there for a long time, undisturbed, and no one was likely to object to a piece of wood being taken.

Lizzy was very proud of her find, and eagerly showed it to the other kids. The older ones scoffed, telling her that it was just a piece of wood, but the twins were impressed, which was enough for Lizzy. She had almost forgotten that she had wanted to stay in California, with all the new adventures facing her.

She returned reluctantly when her parents called her home for dinner. The campsite didn't look much like home to her—it was just another place to camp—but they had assured her that it would be their home for a few weeks, and maybe longer—and that it was part of the adventure they had promised.

As far as Jack and Rose were concerned, home was wherever they settled, so long as their family was together, and if it consisted of a tent for a few weeks, that was just the way life was, and there was nothing wrong with it.

They'd lived in many places now, and wherever they were together had become home to them.


	119. If I Had a Hammer 2

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Nineteen

_June 22, 2009  
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin_

Rose stepped out of the women's restroom and walked toward the Dawsons' campsite, walking slowly in an effort to keep the dust off of her elegant pin-striped pantsuit.

It was her first day of work at _The Chippewa News_, and she wanted to make a good impression. She hadn't even gone through the usual interview process like most employees, so she was even more concerned with making a good impression right from the start.

Jack was sitting at the picnic table near their tent with Lizzy, eating breakfast and listening to the little girl chatter on about everything she wanted to do that day. He looked up when he saw Rose approaching and hushed Lizzy.

Rose walked up to the table, smoothing her jacket nervously. "How do I look?" she asked, turning around for them to see her whole outfit.

"You look good. Very professional," Jack told her. She was dressed differently from her usual casual Bohemian style. He thought that she looked good any way she dressed, but she obviously wasn't quite comfortable with the change from her usual jeans or flowing skirts and loose tops.

"You look pretty, Mommy," Lizzy told her admiringly, abandoning her cereal to run over to her mother. "I wanna fix my hair like yours."

Rose's hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of her neck, leaving it in a loose, attractive ponytail. Lizzy touched it admiringly as Rose picked her up and gave her a hug.

"I have to go to work now, Lizzy," she told her, tapping her nose and making her giggle. "You be good for Daddy, okay?"

"I'm always good!" Lizzy protested, running back to the table to finish her breakfast.

"You're going to sign her up for school today?" Rose asked Jack, walking over to him and sitting beside him for a moment.

"Yeah, at the same elementary school that I went to. It'll be something, seeing that again."

"Yeah." Rose glanced at her watch. "I'd better get going. I can't be late on my first day."

Jack gave her a quick kiss. "Good luck, Rose. You'll be brilliant."

"Thanks. I'll do my best."

*****

Rose pulled into _The Chippewa News_ parking lot, her brightly painted hybrid standing out from the rest of the vehicles parked there. After giving herself one last look in the rearview mirror, she got out and headed for the entrance.

The receptionist nodded to her as she walked in, signaling that she would be with her in a moment. She returned to her phone call, her fingers tapping her computer keys as she talked. Someone hurried past Rose and out the door.

It was obviously a busy place. As soon as the receptionist hung up the phone, Rose approached her.

"I'm Rose Dawson, the new local features writer. I believe that I need to see Patricia Roth."

"Oh, yes." The receptionist checked something on the computer screen. "Yes, I was told to expect you. You're a few minutes early, so just have a seat. I'll let her know you're here."

A few minutes later, a tall, professional-looking woman with brown hair came through the door from the office area. "Rose?" she asked.

Rose got up from her seat. "Ms. Roth? I'm Rose Dawson."

"Please, call me Patricia."

"Patricia."

"All right, Rose, we just have a few things to take of in Human Resources, and then your editor, James McConnell, will show you the ropes and where you're going to work."

*****

It was actually mid-morning before Rose met her editor. James McConnell was in his early sixties, balding and with a toupee that wasn't quite in place, making him look as though he was wearing a small, furry animal on his head. His manner was exuberant and welcoming, so much so that he didn't notice Rose staring at him.

"This will be your office," he told her, leading her to a small cubicle. "No window, but you do have a live plant in here, and you can bring in pictures or knickknacks or what have you to decorate. For the computer—or any computer here—your login name is your first initial and last name, all lower case, and here is your password." He handed her a slip of paper. "You may want to change it."

"Okay." Rose sat down at the desk and logged into the computer, then turned to her new supervisor for further instructions.

"You have full access to the Microsoft office program for typing up your articles, as well as calculating any statistics and the like. This program is your e-mail, and you have complete access to the Internet—no filters. Now, I'm given to understand that you relocated to take this job, so do you know your way around yet?"

"Basically," Rose told him. "My husband grew up here, so he showed me around."

"Good. You'll need to go to community events, political meetings, the school board, the city council, etc. Most of what you'll be writing about will be local happenings—both in this town and in the county as a whole—although state, national, and international events may come up, too. You'll be paid for your mileage, and we pay for any travel you need to do."

"Right. That's what I was told in the interview, and that's what my contract says."

He nodded. "I read your work before I requested you for the job, so I know that you can write well and that you seem to do a good job of checking your facts. However, I have to ask you about your knowledge of laws regarding plagiarism, libel, and protecting sources."

"I think I know those things pretty well," Rose told him. "I worked on my high school newspaper when I was a freshman, and the teacher did a good job of driving all that into our heads. I know that was quite a while ago, but I've written more since…obviously." Rose was a little nervous. "I've also written and performed songs, since I'm also an entertainer, so I know quite a bit about what is and isn't legal."

McConnell looked impressed. "An entertainer, too, you say?" He had read her resume, but he had been more concerned with the things that applied to the position he was looking to fill than with anything else. "That may be useful, too."

"I may go back to entertaining in addition to this, once I find a potential audience here."

"If it's to be found, a reporter in your position is likely to find it," he agreed. "Now, as to what you know about the law…"

"Right. Regarding plagiarism, you need to give people credit if the idea or the material isn't yours, even if it's just calling them an unidentified source...and they always have the option of not being identified. Besides," she added, grinning irrepressibly, "that way, if you're wrong, you can blame it on somebody else."

McConnell laughed. "Just try to avoid that if at all possible."

"Right. As to libel, I need to make sure—as sure as I can be—that I'm printing the truth about people and organizations, and I should never make anything up or falsify sources. Am I right so far?"

He nodded. "You are. And about protecting sources?"

"I am under a legal obligation not to reveal sources without their permission, even if subpoenaed."

"All right, Mrs. Dawson—"

"Rose."

"Rose, you seem to know what you're doing. You'll be working five days a week, with at least three articles a week, plus whatever time you need to spend attending meetings and events outside of your work time, and doing research or conducting interviews. You'll be paid overtime for your extra work. Now, sometimes I'll give you an assignment, and sometimes it will be up to you what you write about. For today, your assignment is in your e-mail. You'll be writing a column introducing yourself to _The Chippewa News_ readers. Bring me a copy of your column when you've written it and I'll look it over and make any necessary suggestions. Once you prove yourself, you'll probably have more freedom to write what you choose."

"You seem to have a lot of confidence in me."

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

"I hope not." Rose paused. "But I am new, and…"

"Well, we'll see how you do. Welcome to _The Chippewa News_, Rose." He offered her his hand.

"I'm glad to be here, and I'll do my best." She shook his proffered hand, smiling.

It looked like things were going to work out.


	120. If I Had a Hammer 3

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Twenty

_June 22, 2009  
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin_

Around mid-morning, Jack helped Lizzy put her sneakers on and strapped her into her car seat. He was leery about leaving the camp unattended, but he wanted to register Lizzy for kindergarten with plenty of time to do any things that needed to be done. He hadn't been able to register her before, and he couldn't wait until Rose came back, because the school office closed at four and she wouldn't be home until past five.

"Did you ever go to kindergarten, Daddy?" Lizzy asked, looking out the window as he drove out of the campground and headed into town.

"Yes, I did, Lizzy, when I was a little boy."

Lizzy tried to imagine her father as little, but couldn't quite manage it. "Where?"

"Right here in Chippewa Falls, Lizzy, at the same school you're going to go to."

"Am I going to learn to read?"

"Maybe not right away, but eventually."

"Am I gonna have the same teacher as you?"

Jack laughed. "Probably not, Lizzy. I was in kindergarten a long time ago." It was possible, though. Jack remembered her as being young and pretty—she might still be teaching.

He pulled into the parking lot of Jim Falls Elementary School, then opened Lizzy's door while she unbuckled herself from her seat. He had long since stopped insisting that she not unbuckle herself as long as she stayed buckled while the car was moving.

Lizzy looked around, wide-eyed, as they walked towards the building. "Wow. I'm gonna be a big kid."

Her father chuckled. "Yes, you will. You've been waiting a long time to be one."

"Yeah. It's about been forever."

"It doesn't seem like that long to me." He held her hand as they went inside. To him, it hardly seemed that any time had passed since Lizzy was born, but she would be five years old in October, and Paul, had he lived, would have been just past a year old by this time. Even the baby that Rose had been carrying, if she hadn't lost it, would have been less than a month away from birth. Time did indeed pass much more quickly than someone as young as Lizzy realized.

He hadn't been to the school in over seventeen years, but he still remembered where things were located. He had been a student there for all the years from kindergarten until he had finished fifth grade and moved on to middle school.

The office was where he remembered it. The school was a bit larger than when he had been there, but some things hadn't changed. They passed a few teachers as they walked, Lizzy gazing around the building with interest. She could hardly wait for school to start, even though there were more than two months to go.

Jack's memories of starting school were vague, but he had been slightly older than Lizzy would be when she started. He did remember having to get shots before school started, and not appreciating it at all, and he remembered clinging to his mother when she dropped him off on the first day and wailing that he didn't want to stay. That had gone on for several days, until he had made some friends and decided that he liked playing with his friends better than clinging to his mother.

There was no line when Jack reached the office and walked up to the desk. A bored-looking clerk sat there entering data into a computer.

"Excuse me."

The clerk looked up, appearing almost relieved at the distraction. "How can I help you?"

"I need to register my daughter for school." Lizzy stood beside Jack, trying without success to see over the desk.

The clerk reached into a drawer and handed him some papers to fill out. "What's the child's name?"

"Elizabeth Ruth Dawson."

"Lizzy," the little girl piped up, still trying to see over the desk.

The clerk smiled. "Hello, Lizzy. I'm Miss Landers." She looked back at Jack. "What is her age?"

"Four right now, but she'll be five October second."

"So her date of birth is October 2, 2004?"

"Right."

"And what grade? Kindergarten?"

"Yes, kindergarten."

"Are you looking at the morning or the afternoon session?"

"Morning." He wasn't sure what they would do with her in the afternoons after he started at the university, but they would be there when she got on the bus most mornings, and on those occasions that they weren't, they could drop her off at school.

"And what is your home address, and mailing address if it's different?"

"Uh…we don't currently have a home address. We're living in the campground outside of town for now…at least until my wife gets her first paycheck and we can afford a place to live. We currently get our mail General Delivery."

"Do you know the address of the campground?"

"No…but we're in space seventeen."

"Okay." Miss Landers made a note of that. "We'll also need her vaccination records. If her vaccinations aren't up to date, there's a couple of places in the area that give free or low-cost vaccines to those who can't afford them."

"I'll have check on that." Rose had usually taken Lizzy to the doctor when it was needed, so he didn't know if the child was up to date on her vaccines or not.

He looked around, realizing that Lizzy was no longer standing beside him, trying to see over the desk. Instead, the bored child was now sitting on the floor in the corner, poking her fingers into the dirt of a wilted-looking plant.

"Lizzy, come here. Don't play with that."

"But, Daddy…"

"Lizzy, I said come here. That isn't yours. Don't play with it."

"But it needs water…"

"Lizzy, come here." Jack's voice brooked no argument.

Lizzy came over, dragging her feet and wiping her dirty hands on her already grubby shorts. "Daddy…"

"Lizzy, you can stand next to me or sit in a chair, but you can't play in the dirt. Do you understand?"

Lizzy nodded sadly, clinging to his leg. Her earlier enthusiasm had been wiped out by her father's scolding her. Still, she stood on tiptoe and tried to see over the desk again, peering up at Miss Landers.

"Your plant needs water."

"Lizzy…"

Miss Landers smiled. "Actually, she's right. I was supposed to water it earlier, and I forgot. Thank you for reminding me." She leaned over the desk. "Do you like plants, Lizzy?"

Lizzy nodded, hugging her father's leg tighter.

"A friend of my wife's back in California is a professional botanist, and she happily taught Lizzy everything she could. I'm afraid Lizzy doesn't know when not to play yet."

"She'll learn. She's pretty young, yet."

"Yes, but she still doesn't need to play with things that aren't hers."

"If you don't object, there is a kindergarten teacher here who uses a lot of nature projects to teach children. Your daughter might learn well in her class. Her name is Mrs. Marks, but up until a couple of years ago she was known as Miss Barnes—"

"She's still here?"

Miss Landers looked at him, a bit startled. "Well, yes. I've only been working here for three years, but I guess she's been here since the eighties."

Jack grinned, nodding. "I remember her. She was my kindergarten teacher. I thought she was wonderful." He also recalled her nature projects—flowers, leaves, grass, dirt—all sorts of things that had delighted a five-year-old boy and made his parents shake their heads at the stains on his clothes and the crumbling art projects that he had proudly brought home and placed on the refrigerator. Lizzy would love her class.

"I'd like to place my daughter in her class, then—if there's room."

"I'll see what I can do." She handed him the forms to fill out. "Would you mind if your daughter waters the plant?"

Jack sighed. "I don't mind—as long as she gets permission first. She just has to learn to ask first."

"Do you want to water it, Lizzy?"

Lizzy glanced at her father, afraid he would tell her no. "Go ahead, Lizzy. She says it's okay."

Miss Landers led Lizzy to the back while Jack filled out the papers. When they returned, a happy Lizzy pouring water into the pot and making sure it didn't run out the bottom, Miss Landers took a business card from her desk drawer and offered it to Jack.

"Excuse me, Mr. …" She stopped, not knowing what to call him. Plenty of children had different last names from their parents.

"Dawson. Jack Dawson. Call me Jack." He looked up at her, pen poised over the third page of forms.

"Jack." She handed him the business card. "Since you'll be looking for a place to stay, this might interest you…if you don't mind trailer parks. My brother runs this trailer park, and there's almost always trailers available for rent or for purchase. It's a good neighborhood, with a playground for the kids and everything. Just ask for James Landers. Tell him Eva sent you."

Jack took the card, tucking it into his pocket. "Thanks. I'll see what my wife thinks, look into it if she agrees." He couldn't imagine Rose disagreeing with a perfectly good roof over their heads, but he had to make sure.

Jack finished filling out the forms and pushed them back across the desk.

"Thanks." Eva took the papers and looked them over quickly. "Okay. We'll just need her vaccination records and she'll be all set. School starts September eighth."

"She'll be there." Jack looked at his daughter, who was still inspecting the plant. "Are you ready to go, Lizzy?"

"Yeah." She ran up and put the plastic pitcher on the desk. "It's all watered, Miss Landers."

"Thank you, Lizzy. That was very helpful."

"You're welcome." Lizzy grinned, showing her small, even white teeth. "Are you gonna be my teacher?"

Eva laughed, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not, Lizzy. But you'll like your teacher. The lady whose class you'll probably be in is very nice—and she likes plants, too. I bet I'll see you, though."

"Okay." Lizzy grinned at her, then turned to her father. "Daddy, how long until school starts?"

"About ten weeks, Lizzy."

The child looked disappointed. "That's a long time."

"Not as long as you think, Lizzy. It'll go by fast. I promise."

"And school will be fun?"

"I hope so, Lizzy."


	121. If I Had a Hammer 4

**PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-One**

_July 22, 2009  
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin_

"Well, here it is." Jack led Rose and Lizzy up the rickety steps of the trailer he had rented. "Home sweet home."

Unlocking the door, he let them in. "It isn't furnished at all—we'll have to take care of that ourselves—but the water and the electricity are on. It's not much, but it's better than trying to live in a tent when winter comes."

Rose looked around, taking in the small kitchen and living room, then looking down the hallway to the two bedrooms and the bathroom. "It'll do, I think. It's no worse than the first place we lived in, except that the yard is very small, and it's all ours. And you're right—I don't think we could live in a tent in the winter here. It's cold enough in southern California in the winter, but here…well, let's just say that I never saw a frozen over lake in southern California, not even in the mountains."

"I was afraid you wouldn't want to live here," Jack told her, putting an arm around her waist as they went to look at the bedrooms.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "A lot of people don't like trailer parks, especially the run-down, low-rent variety."

"I have nothing against trailer parks. It's a place to live. I would like a bigger yard, but maybe we'll be able to get that when we're both working and have saved some money. There's no use putting ourselves in debt at this point if we don't have to. Now, I'm sure my mother would be appalled. But unless Nana told her, she doesn't even know that we've left California, let alone that we're living in a trailer park. I think that it's nice enough, and all these weathered trailers have a certain charm that all the fancy new housing tracts in the world can't compete with."

Jack grinned. He knew how Rose felt about the housing tracts that she had grown up in, and he wasn't surprised now that she preferred a trailer park.

Lizzy came running out of one of the bedrooms. "Mommy! Daddy! That room has Mickey Mouse walls! Can I sleep in there?"

"Let's see, Lizzy." Rose followed her into the room, confirming that the walls were indeed covered with faded Mickey Mouse wallpaper. "I don't see why not. What do you think, Jack?"

"You can have this room, Lizzy, as long as you don't color on the walls. Okay?" Lizzy had, on more than one occasion in the past, scribbled on the walls with crayons, markers, and pens. She hadn't done it in a long time, but Jack didn't relish the idea of explaining to their landlord why there were childish murals on the wallpaper.

"Okay, Daddy. Do I gotta share it with anybody?"

"No, Lizzy. Not right now, anyway. Your mommy and I will sleep in the other bedroom."

"Where are the beds?"

"We have to buy our own, Busy-Lizzy," Rose told her. "For now, let's bring our stuff in and get it put away, and then we can worry about what else we need."

*****

It didn't take long for the Dawsons to unpack and put away their belongings—they didn't have much. They had never had a great deal of extra belongings, and they had even less now, since they'd sold off most of their extra stuff in order to have enough money to move to Chippewa Falls and live until Rose received her first paycheck. They didn't have much money now—Rose had worked only a few days in June—and they had had to get an advance on her second paycheck to pay the rent on the trailer. But at least they had a roof over their heads now, and there was still enough money for food until the end of the month if they were careful.

They ate dinner on the trailer steps—they didn't have a table or chairs yet—and watched television sitting on the floor of the living room. The television wasn't in the greatest shape anymore—it was the same one that Rose had had since she was a teenager, with a converter box added so the old analog television would work—but Jack and Rose considered it to be a luxury that they wouldn't replace until their financial situation was more sound.

That night, after they had tucked Lizzy into her makeshift bed in her new room, Jack and Rose retreated to the privacy of their own room. They had spread their blankets out on the floor, making a serviceable if not entirely comfortable bed.

"This is nice," Jack commented, leaning against the wall and pulling his shoes off.

"What is?" Rose looked up from where she was rummaging through her suitcase for a nightgown.

"This." Jack gestured to the small room. "Having a room of our own and some privacy again."

"Oh…yes. Yes, it is nice. There's not much privacy in a tent—especially not with a rambunctious four-year-old."

"I've missed being alone with you."

"Yeah. Me, too." Rose looked him with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "You've missed more than just the alone part. You miss what we can do when we're alone."

"Oh, and you haven't?" he teased her, tossing his shirt aside and coming towards her.

Rose laughed softly. "Maybe." She giggled as Jack put his arms around her and kissed her neck. "Yes."

She looked at her suitcase, then closed it and pushed it aside. "Forget the nightgown. You can keep me warm."

Jack chuckled softly. "I thought we'd never be alone."

"Well," Rose whispered, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back, "now that we are, let's take advantage of it. If you'll just turn off that light bulb up there…"

Jack reached up and pulled the chain to turn off the light bulb, his lips never leaving Rose's as they sank down to the soft pile of blankets.


	122. If I Had a Hammer 5

PRESENT TENSE  
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two

_July 29, 2009  
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin_

Rose hummed contentedly to herself as she cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. Jack and Lizzy were sitting in the living room, watching television. She laughed softly as she heard Jack laugh at something and Lizzy ask him what was so funny.

Life was going well for the family again. Jack would be returning to college in a few weeks, and not long after that, Lizzy would be starting school. They had already met Lizzy's teacher and introduced themselves and their daughter. Rose had been astounded to learn that she was the same teacher Jack had had for kindergarten. It seemed amazing to her that the same teacher would be there after twenty-three years.

Rose had settled into her job and was doing well at it. She had never thought of trying to make a living as a journalist, but she was good at it, and thinking back to the comments made about her writing when she was in school, she realized that her teachers had been right. She did have a talent for it. Maybe, she thought, she would eventually try writing something else.

As it was, though the _Chippewa News _was still a small paper, it was nevertheless a big job in a town the size of Chippewa Falls. She attended community events and political meetings, and even went out of town to interview people and get information. She was developing contacts in faraway places—though some she had already known from her earlier political activism. She was even learning to be her own photographer.

Her job also gave her the opportunity to investigate certain people, organizations, and events more thoroughly, but she sometimes walked a fine ethical line there. She couldn't use her knowledge either for or against people, not unless she had solid proof, and she wouldn't do or write anything that might put someone in danger, no matter what her suspicions or opinions. She was learning to be more cautious.

Still, her work hadn't dampened Rose's enthusiasm for activism, so long as there was an issue that she felt needed her attention, and it hadn't lessened her desire to continue her old career as a singer. She had her doubts that she would ever be wealthy and famous, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she could sing and that she enjoyed it. She had found a bar in Chippewa Falls that hired local talent to entertain the patrons, and had been promised a recurring gig there on Monday nights as often as she was able. She had put in her first performance there two days before, singing a series of Depression-era songs she had learned from CDs Mari had made for her, and had found that people seemed to like what she had to say. With economic conditions being similar to those of seventy years earlier, the songs struck a chord in many people, and she had actually received a standing ovation, quite an accomplishment in an establishment where people's main objective in coming was to get drunk.

Jack had wanted to go to see her perform, but Lizzy was too young to go into a bar, and they didn't know anyone who could watch her. Even Jack's cousin, Emmaline, was busy on Monday nights teaching a community-level art class. Rose knew that Jack supported her efforts, though. He had congratulated her on her success, and when she had picked at her food at dinner before going to the bar, he had assured that she would be fine, and that she would be a hit.

Rose was drawn from her reverie by the sound of the doorbell. Curious, she put the last dish away and went to answer it, wondering who it could be. They didn't know many people in Chippewa Falls especially well yet, and no one had been invited over.

Opening the door, Rose was surprised to see a little girl standing there, a chubby baby half-sliding out of stroller she was pushing. Rose felt a sudden pang at the sight of the baby, reminding her of Paul, but this baby was much younger, judging by the toothless grin, and probably a girl, if the bright pink romper was any indication.

"Hi," the little girl spoke, her face splitting in a friendly grin. "I'm Lori. I'm five. Do you got any kids?"

Rose stared at her for a moment, taken aback. Where were these children's parents or baby-sitter? It was still light out—it was only seven o'clock, and the sun set late in the summer this far north—but she still didn't think it was safe for a small child to be wandering around alone. Cars moved too fast up and down the narrow streets of the trailer park, and nearly every yard had at least one dog—some of them wandering loose. Why weren't they safely under an adult's supervision instead of ringing the doorbells of strangers?

"Um…Lori…who's supposed to be watching you and your…sister?" she asked. She turned to see Jack and Lizzy behind her. They had also heard the doorbell, and had come to investigate.

Lori's eyes lit up at the sight of Lizzy. "Hi!" she greeted her. "I'm Lori. It's my birthday. Who are you?"

Lizzy hung back shyly for a moment, then crept forward, still clinging to Jack. "I'm Lizzy. Is that your baby sister?"

Lori nodded. "Uh-huh. Her name's Margie. I got a baby brother, too. His name's Zack, but he's just a dumb boy."

"I had a baby brother," Lizzy volunteered, "but he died."

"I wish my baby brother would die," Lori told her. "He stinks."

"Lori!" Rose was shocked. "What a thing to say!"

Lori looked at Rose in confusion, obviously not understanding what she'd done wrong. Having never witnessed death, except for that of a pet when she was very young, the girl didn't really comprehend what death meant. It was something that she saw on television, and it didn't mean much there. She stared at the Dawsons, not sure what she had done to upset them.

"Lori! Lori Jean Clark!" a smoke-hoarsened voice called from across the street. A moment later, a dark-haired woman with a cigarette clamped between her lips caught sight of the girl and her baby sister and came across the street. "Lori, I told you to stay home!"

Lori cowered a little, going to stand behind the stroller. "Mommy, you said I could go out and play if somebody went with me. Margie's somebody—"

"I meant somebody older than you, Lori. You know better than to take your little sister out." She looked at the child with both anger and exasperation, then looked at the Dawsons. "I'm sorry she bothered you. She's only five, don't know much yet…"

"Mommy, they got a little girl. Her name's Lizzy."

"Good. Now, don't bother these people no more."

"But Mommy, I wanna invite Lizzy to my party tomorrow."

"It's Saturday, Lori." She looked apologetically at the Dawsons again. "She don't know how to think yet, either."

Lori's face crumpled, her feelings obviously hurt by her mother's comment. "I do so, Mommy…"

"She's welcome to come over to play sometime, if it's okay with you," Rose told the woman. "I'm Rose Dawson, and this is my husband, Jack. Lori's already told you who Lizzy is."

The woman took a drag off her cigarette, considering. "I'm Norma Clark. If it's okay with you, she can visit, but I don't want her runnin' around by herself."

"I agree." Rose nodded. "I wouldn't want Lizzy running around by herself, either. She's only four."

"Lori's five today. She's probably already told you that, since she wants to invite Lizzy to her party, which is Saturday, not tomorrow. She don't got her days straight."

"Lizzy will be five in October." Rose nodded. "Yes, Lori can come over and play. Lizzy needs to make some friends here."

Norma took another drag on her cigarette. "Great." She dropped the cigarette on the gravel driveway and ground it out with her foot. Rose looked at it with distaste. "Lizzy's invited to Lori's birthday party. It's on Saturday at three. You don't gotta bring a present unless you want to."

"Can I go, Mommy? Please?" Lizzy begged, excited at the prospect of going to a birthday party.

"Well…I suppose so, Lizzy. It's right across the street, right?" she asked Norma.

"Yeah. I ain't got no money for nothin' fancy. They're just havin' cake and ice cream and some games. Nothin' special."

"It sounds fine," Rose told her. She looked down at Lizzy. "What do you say, Lizzy?"

"Yeah!"

"No…what's the polite thing to say, Lizzy?"

"Oh…thank you!"

"Uh…you're welcome." Norma was obviously not used to being thanked for anything. "Listen, I gotta go. I gotta drop the kids off at my sister's and go to work. Night shift, you know."

She took the stroller and secured Margie in it, then started across the street, grabbing Lori's arm and dragging her along when the girl lingered. "Come on! We ain't got all night!"

Rose watched them go, vaguely disturbed at the way the woman treated her daughter. It wasn't quite abusive, but it wasn't particularly nice, either.


End file.
